Test of Time
by MikeRPG
Summary: An indepth and expanded novelization of FF VI with new information on the history of the world, the characters, and their relationship as a team. All reviews appreciated, whether good or bad.
1. Introduction

**About this story**

This is an in-depth novelization of Final Fantasy IV. Not only will there much more in the way of dialogue between the characters, but I am also adding new dialogue, new scenes, go into more depth about the relationships between the characters. I am also going to be hinting at a long and detailed history _before_ the game begins. I am going to make it fit with my other story, currently on hiatus, titled _Foundations of Ruin_.

That story goes into a lot of detail about the backgrounds for Gestahl, Duncan, Banon, the previous rulers of Figaro and Doma, the Elder of Narshe, etc. I will be using additional names for characters that often weren't given the honor in the game.

My interpretations of some of the characters are also a bit different than in the game, and especially in the World of Ruin things may not be exactly as they are in the game. This is particularly true of Sabin, who is my favorite character and I think got rather shortchanged in the game as a guy who's just happy to punch enemies, but I think that clashed with his story as a martial artist supreme. Some of the other characters may also be made a bit more "adult" as they would have been were Final Fantasy not geared for a younger audience.

_**Dramatis Personae**_

Terra – the green-haired Imperial witch, with her compassion and magic power she may be the world's last hope

Locke – a carefree treasure hunter, he hides a tortured past and remains a loyal comrade

Edgar – king of Figaro, engineer, flirt, and warrior, with the manners of a cad but the soul of a hero

Sabin – heir of ancient martial art secrets and Prince of Figaro, hearty in battle and in laughter, a mighty warrior and a gentle soul

Celes – general of the Empire and Magitek knight, see seems to have a heart as cold as ice but as pure as snow

Shadow – a mysterious assassin with no loyalty but to himself, a man of deadly skills and even more dire secrets

Cyan – noble knight to the ancient kingdom of Doma, a fantastic swordsman who follows the old code of honor and chivalry

Gau – an orphaned child who survived in the treacherous Veldt, his berserker rages make him a powerful but wild addition

Setzer – free-spirited gambler who wanders the world in his airship, he hides a noble spirit beneath a veneer of carelessness and revelry

Strago – an ancient mage, one of the most powerful of those left in the world and a master of ancient lore

Relm – a carefree youth, an artist who treats the whole world as her canvas

Mog – one of the only Moogles who can speak with people, he seeks adventure away from the safety of the warrens


	2. Prologue

Long ago, in an age long since past and nearly forgotten, the epic War of the Magi tore through the world, reducing the lands to barren wastelands, and the great power known as magic ceased to exist.

Since that terrible era, when the great Ancients destroyed each other and the Goddesses ended the threat of magic, a thousand years have come and gone. Iron, gunpowder, steam, the tools of modern times have been rediscovered, and technology reigns in the world.

Yet even in this new age, there remain some who would enslave the world, those who would seek to revive dreaded secrets long buried. Those who would call upon the destructive force known, as magic. Long ago it shattered the world, and nearly destroyed us all. Can it be that those in power are on the verge of repeating a senseless and deadly mistake? Will anyone survive this time?

* * *

From the pages of _Heroes of the Ages_, by Rhystrom Khejas, published 1078 A.M. (After Magi) or 45 P.R. (post-Ruin)

_As has been discussed, the legendary days of the Ancients and the great War of the Magi have affected our world in ways that some of us still cannot understand. Magic, Espers, and relics that survived to our modern world all shaped the way people viewed life. But what has shaped our world more than anything has only happened in the last century._

_It began with the devastating Urthmen Wars that began in 1007. They came out of nowhere; no book of magic or monster had ever recorded creatures like the destructive Urthmen. They came out of the earth itself, bodies of stone, crystal eyes, and diamond claws. They attacked every corner of the world, but they focused most heavily on the southern continent._

_Out of the wars came the three great heroes of the age. First, there was Banon, the healing general. The most brilliant commander of the war, his decisions in battle turned the tide to victory often with one tactic or maneuver that would catch his own soldiers by surprise. And when the battles were over, from his hands would come life and healing._

_The greatest hero of the age was none other than Master Duncan Ironhand. The heir of a thousand years of martial arts tradition and the secret powers of the Blitz, no one matched him in battle. With his long-time friend and traveling companion Banon, he fought in the wars, certain never to fail to lead the soldiers into battle. With the great powers he had mastered, there were none who could stand up to him._

_The final great hero of the wars was Gestahl, a minor lord of the small village of Vector on the southern continent. It was his home that suffered the greatest attacks by the Urthmen, though to this day no one knows why. With the fortune of his family, Gestahl turned Vector into the greatest fortress in the world to protect his people. With his charisma Gestahl united the entire continent under his rule to fight the Urthmen._

_United in a common cause, the final battle of the Urthmen Wars was fought on the plains outside of Vector. Reinforced by armies from Vector's allies in Figaro and Doma, the battle seemed to slide from certain victory to near-annihilation. The Urthmen vanished in one moment, just as they readied a final charge. To this day no one knows how or why, nor have the Urthmen ever been seen since those terrible days. It is a mystery no one will likely ever solve._

_The end of the war meant a breaking for the great three. Gestahl, drunk on power and authority, believed that for the world to survive another threat, it must be united in a common cause. Thus he formed the great Empire, to use guile, force, and the secrets of magic to unite the world under one banner. His banner._

_His old friend Banon, fearful of what the Empire's expansion meant for the rest of the world, formed a group of freedom fighters that would become known as the Returners. Thus things stood, until, in the winter of 1032, the people of the mining town of Narshe made a startling discovery…_


	3. Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Welcome to the first chapter of _Test of Time_. I hope the depth of the story interests all of you. Updates may be slow, as I'm trying to finish another story, and have other stories in the works, so please bear with me. As usual, I own NOTHING related to Final Fantasy, nor do I make any money off of this work. Thank you and enjoy.

* * *

The bitterly cold winds howled and whipped through the mountains, moving mounds of snow from one place to another. It was enough to freeze a man to his bones, but the inhabitants of the town of Narshe had grown used to their harsh homelands. They had learned to tolerate the snow and the wind and the cold.

This was a night no different than any other. The townsfolk went about their normal activities as men changed into their guard uniforms for the night watch, securing heavy woolen scarves across their faces, while others made their way to the bars and cafes for a round of drinks. Women tucked their children under warm wool blankets. Tracks in the snow from those passing were quickly erased by the winds and new snow, for that was how things were meant to be in Narshe. The inhabitants liked the status quo, and had every intention of keeping it that way.

It was a shame that others were not so considerate.

Imperial First Sergeant Vicks watched his breath turn into a cloud of vapor. The suit of Magitek armor was supposed to protect its occupant from bad weather. Another thing the damn suits were _supposed_ to do, according to the scientists and engineers back in Vector. Another bloody fine mess they got the soldiers into on the front lines.

"Don't even think about complaining about it," commented the other man. Lieutenant Wedge of Emperor's spy network was a short, dark-haired man native to Vector. He tossed a crooked grin to his friend, comrade, and subordinate.

"Didn't give it a thought," returned Vicks as he breathed clouds. He turned back to the town, squinting to see through the snow. "Well, there it is. Narshe. The bloody farthest place from flaming anywhere on the damn planet."

Wedge chuckled. Vicks liked to complain, but it was almost all for show. When they had their backs to a wall, Wedge wouldn't want anyone else next to him.

His demeanor turned serious in a heartbeat. "It's hard to believe that these people have actually found an Esper intact after all this time. A thousand years since the War of the Magi, and these miners unearth one right under their noses."

Vicks tossed a sidelong glance at his friend. "You think the bloody thing's still alive?"

"Probably," answered Wedge with a shrug, "judging by the urgency of our orders. I couldn't believe the seal on our orders."

"Guess it wasn't Colonel Brank, was it?" commented Vicks. Colonel Brank was in charge of the Imperial spies for everything north and west of Figaro.

"Nope. Try a little higher."

"General Leo?"

"Uh uh. Even as much as I'd go to the grave for him," added Wedge.

"General Celes?"

"The Magitek ice-queen? Forget it."

"Don't tell me that flaming maniac General Kefka gave us the orders," said Vicks, "if he did then I'll tell that bloody painted fool exactly what he can do with them."

Wedge shook his head with an air of resignation. "Not yet. Higher still, old friend."

"What the hell you talking about, Wedge? There is no one higher than the generals. Unless, you mean…" Vicks trailed off as realization dawned on him.

"Yep. Emperor Gestahl himself. I damn near wet myself when I saw his personal seal on the orders. This comes from on high, old buddy."

Vicks cursed softly under his breath, the cold wind forgotten entirely. He didn't mind serving the Empire, but the Emperor's personal interest was too much for a common soldier to accept. Gestahl had been victorious in a war that had nearly torn the planet apart because every city and kingdom served only themselves. The world needed one authority, everyone had to hail the same banner. Figaro and Doma were both too weak for the job. Gestahl's Empire could unite the world. That was something worth fighting for.

Sighing with the same resignation he'd heard from Wedge, Vicks turned around and saw their other companion.

She was a petite young woman, rather beautiful, if he was to admit it. Her hair was the color of bright jade and fell down to her shoulders in natural loose curls. She wore a red jumpsuit with royal purple highlights and shoulder pads that did not hinder anyone from seeing her pleasing figure. But her eyes made Vicks shudder. They were emerald green, and looked like they should sparkle. But they were dull, empty, lifeless.

_A doll's eyes,_ he thought, and quickly banished the idea.

"And this… this woman. This… bloody sorcerer. This… _witch_. What in the name of the Ancients is she doing here?" he wanted to know, "I heard that she was sent up against a patrol of over fifty troops in full Magitek armor and fried them all in under three minutes!"

Wedge looked over his shoulder and forced a smirk onto his face. He was no more comfortable with the woman than Vicks, but he knew a little of what she was capable of. He took a few steps forward and looked into her eyes. Her blank stare looked right past him.

"Not to worry. That circlet on her head is a slave crown. It'll rob her of all conscious thought. Don't ask me how," he said, forestalling the question from Vicks, "but she'll never think of an original idea on her own. She'll follow any order we give her."

"Really?" commented Vicks with a leer as he took a second look at the girl, "_Any_ order?"

"Knock it off!" barked Wedge in a command voice. He was glad to see Vicks go rigid in his armored suit. "We have a mission to accomplish. You can have your fun after we get the Esper. Understood?"

"Yes sir," returned Vicks.

Wedge nodded gruffly and began to walk closer to the mountain pass that would lead them to Narshe.

"We'll approach from the east," he ordered, "use the mountains for cover until we're too close for their guards to do anything. Move out!"

Vicks waited for the woman to follow. If something did go wrong with the slave crown, he sure didn't want her with a suit of Magitek armor pointed at his back.

The three of them marched through the several feet of snow on the ground with the winds whipping about and blinding them. There were times Wedge couldn't see five feet ahead of him.

After an hour the mountain they were skirting turned to the north and the three soldiers followed it right to the wall surrounding the town.

Wedge turned to look at Vicks and grinned. "Let's put the girl on point. Anything goes wrong, she'll take the brunt of it. No sense in the two of us taking unnecessary risks. Forward!"

A beam of red-hot energy shot from the girl's Magitek armor, blasting the gate apart and melting the ends of the steel bars. The three of them marched into the town. Alarms began to sound and they could hear people screaming as they got out of the way.

Soon a squad of Narshe's guards, wearing their gray robes over suits of light armor approached the team of Imperials.

"Burn me!" yelled the leader, "Imperial Magitek armor! Not even Narshe is safe anymore from Imperial swine! Let's get them!"

The squad of guards rushed forward, but Wedge and Vicks were supremely confident in the Magitek armor. Vicks unleashed a beam of frozen energy, causing one guard's entire body to freeze into ice. Wedge chose to use a beam of crackling energy that caused a small explosion upon impact with another guard, sending him flying with his entire chest charred black.

The girl followed orders and continued to lead the trio through the town, closer and closer to the mines. They were attacked several more times by guards, some of them leading large black hounds known as lobos, dangerous creatures out in the wild but Narshe had learned to domesticate them years ago. Unfortunately, none of them were any match for the Magitek armor suits.

Vicks grinned with cruel humor as he watched the ordinary civilians screaming and running around to get away from him. With the power of the Magitek armor, he felt like a god of vengeance among mortals. After a half hour of leaving a trail of destruction through the town of Narshe, the three Imperial soldiers arrived at the staging area for the mines.

"Okay, this should be it," commented Wedge, "Intel reports said that they uncovered the Esper in one of their new mine shafts. I don't think we need to worry about their guards, so let's try this one to start out."

The three of them entered the mines, facing down numerous creatures, including the giant mine rats that the people of Narshe had domesticated generations ago to help with the work in the mines. Pockets of mine vapors seemed to have gathered in clusters throughout the mines, threatening to choke the trio of Imperial soldiers, but beams of energy from the Magitek suits seemed to take care of these vapors as easily as they did any normal enemy.

After an hour or more of searching the mine shafts, a level or two down from the entrance the three of them came to a gate of solid steel with a massive lock holding it closed. Wedge and Vicks exchanged a look and Vicks grinned wickedly.

"Stand back, old buddy. I can handle this."

Wedge and the girl stood off to the side as Vicks backed up to gain some room. Then he made the Magitek run full tilt at the gate. The weight of the suit and momentum from running smashed through the lock and slammed the gate door wide open.

"Hold it right there, you villains!" yelled a voice from the tunnel, and suddenly a man was there. He was dressed in clothes similar to the rest of Narshe's guards, but instead of the plain light brown, his uniform was in a shade of ice-blue with darker trimming. Wedge remembered this as the description for the Marshal-Captain of Narshe.

"We won't hand over the Esper, Imperial swine!" he continued, "You may have marched yourselves through Narshe, but we get the last laugh! Whelk! Forward and attack!"

With that, the man vanished into a small side corridor off the main tunnel. As they were distracted, they missed the massive dark shape that charged them.

Vicks let out a cry of alarm just as the creature slammed into them, forcing three suits of newly dented Magitek armor back several yards. The creature looked like an enormous snail, but its antennae were razor-sharp, and it had moved with lightning speed. The shell didn't look to be any sort of recognizable material, but looked more like solid purple rock.

"Burn me!" yelled Wedge, readying his weapons systems.

"Hold it, Wedge! Think back to our flaming briefing by the captain!" yelled Vicks.

"What about it!" was Wedge's reply. Even in a near panic, he still kept his language cleaner.

"You remember being told about a bloody monster that eats lightning?"

Wedge nodded fiercely as he pulled his Magitek suit back to avoid another strike by this creature, the Whelk.

"And the damn thing stores the energy inside of its shell."

"Right!" agreed Vicks, "Girl, whatever you do, don't attack the flaming shell!"

"Less talk and more shooting, please!" called Wedge as a beam of red-hot energy blazed forth, striking the creature in the head.

Vicks and the girl followed suit, the latter being equipped with improved weapon systems let loose with a tek missile that flew forward from its storage holder at the hip, and detonated in a small explosion as it struck Whelk's head. The creature's head whipped about, sending its heavy head tentacles slashing across their Magitek suits. Wedge followed that up with a blast of electrically-charged energy.

Whelk moaned as little lightning bolts continued to arc across its head, which it then pulled inside of its shell.

"Hold fire!" ordered Wedge, "Take the opportunity to heal yourselves!"

All three of them activated the healing force stored into their Magitek armor, the truest incarnation of the power that kept the suits active.

With a low growling sound, Whelk's head emerged from inside the shell. This time the soldiers were ready.

Wedge and Vicks both blasted it with beams of heat energy as the girl let loose with another tek missile. The head was singed by both beams of super-intense heat and the missile finally blew its head apart.

The three Imperials took a break for a moment, the two men needing to catch their breaths.

"I hate flaming slugs," commented Vicks to fill the silence.

Wedge grinned at his friend, then looked over at the girl. Her eyes were still lifeless, and it didn't even look like her heartbeat had speeded up at all. He shook his head. Whatever General Kefka had with the girl, he wanted none of it, and hoped to be away from any slave crown as soon as possible.

"Let's move," he ordered.

The three of them moved on, wary for any more ambushes, for who knew what other monsters these mountain yokels might have waiting in the wings.

The tunnel suddenly opened up into a large cavern. At the far end, the Esper sat encased in block of solid ice. The three soldiers came closer, all of them entranced. The creature looked like a cross between some kind of bird and a dragon out of some storybook.

"Will you look at that?" whispered Vicks.

Wedge did his best to nod confidently. "That's the Esper, all right. Frozen solid. Now let's figure out a way to move it out of here."

Suddenly the Esper was surrounded in a blue light that seemed to fill the room, but was gone as quickly as it had come.

"Bloody Ancients!" cried Vicks.

Without a word, the girl marched herself forward, her eyes never leaving the frozen Esper.

"Hey girl, what's the matter?" asked Wedge, "Do you know something we don't? Burn you girl, answer me!"

The blue light once again surrounded the Esper and seemed to flash intermittently, filling the room with an intense glow. Pain suddenly exploded in both of the men's heads.

Trapped inside their Magitek suits, all they could do was grasp their heads in pain, otherwise they likely would have been rolling on the floor, unable even to stand.

"Aaaaah! Burn you witch! Where's that light coming from!" Wedge managed to get out through the agony, "Bloody… flaming… aaaaaaah!"

Blood seeped from his ears, nose, and the corners of his mouth, and Wedge went silent as his hands fell lifelessly to his sides.

Vicks was no longer able to keep his eyes open, for it felt that his entire head was getting ready to explode.

"Wedge! Bloody Ancients, where are you! Aaaaaah! What's bloody happening to us! Aaaaaaah!"

After another few moments, Vicks' hands fell lifeless as well. Through it all, the girl stood their silent, her eyes fixed on the Esper before her. Without warning, the suit of Magitek armor around her seemed to separate and explode outward. The blue glow that surrounded the Esper suddenly surrounded her as well, and a bolt of bluish-white lightning arced between the two of them.

Two more bolts of lightning shattered the other Magitek suits, and burned the two Imperial soldiers beyond recognition.

As suddenly as it had all begun, the blue glow and the lightning vanished, dropping the girl unconscious on the hard stone floor. She never heard the soft footsteps approach her, footsteps that had followed them through the town. Nor did she feel the hands that picked her up and carried her out of the mines.


	4. Chapter 2: Freedom Run

Thank you so much to Fang and Lady Aegis for being the first to give me your reviews. I look forward to receiving many more, especially from all of those who enjoyed my first story, Dark Esper. I hope these pretty quick update satisfies you. Thank you and enjoy.

* * *

Visions, nightmares, and memories fled into the background of a pained mind as blazing light pierced her eyes.

_Where have I been? How long have I been out? Hold on, who am I?_

Fear and panic forced her eyes fully open and made her aware of where she was. She was in someone's bedroom, laying on the soft mattress of their bed. For just an instant she luxuriated in comfort that she knew she hadn't experienced in a long time, though how she knew that eluded her.

A moan of pain escaped her lips, and just that quickly someone entered the room. He was tall older man, with a thick shock of salt and pepper hair and a closely trimmed beard that had the same mix of silver and black as his hair. He was dressed in heavy brown pants, plain white shirt and a warm wool vest of royal blue. His eyes never left her, and they were filled to overflowing with compassion and sympathy.

"Where… am I?" she managed ask hoarsely.

The man's eyes widened in surprise. "Amazing. I only removed the crown not five minutes ago."

She tried to force herself into a sitting position, but the man came over and gently pushed her back down. She saw what she was wearing, a red jumpsuit in violet trim, with a skirt split up the middle for ease of moment, and high red heeled boots. She wanted to sit up but the man easily held her down.

"Not so fast, young lady," he said kindly, "You've probably out of it for a while. You're going to need some time to recover, and you're going to stay in that bed for as long as that takes. Or as long as you have."

The last part was said under his breath, she didn't think he intended for her to hear.

Her eyes closed in momentary pain. "Head… hurts," she breathed.

Once again she tried to sit up, this time nearly throwing herself forward. Her vision blurred and the room spun around her, but the man caught her and helped her remain upright.

"If you intend to be a stubborn fool about sitting up," he said softly, "then I guess the least I can do is help you."

"Thank you."

He shrugged. "Think nothing of it, my dear. I have a soft spot for strays," he said with a low chuckle.

After several moments, she finally thought herself able to hold herself upright in bed. When she was finally able to do so, the old man stood up and walked across the room to the chest of drawers, where there was something sitting on top of it. She looked at it closely.

It looked like nothing more than a simple brown metal circlet, with smaller strips of metal and wires arching over it, turning it into a dome shape. A shudder went through her as she looked at it. Fear, disgust, and hatred in equal parts flowed in and out, although for the life of her she couldn't understand why.

The old man looked at the… _thing_… in his hands with an expression of as much disgust as she felt.

"This is a Slave Crown," he said quietly, "a device the Empire uses on certain occasions. It's very rare. It's said that it destroys every original thought that the wearer has, making them a puppet to be controlled. This means that whatever you did here, you were completely under the control of the others who came with you."

"Whatever I did?" she asked nervously, then started shaking her head, her green ponytail flipping over both shoulders, "I can't remember a thing. Nothing! I can't remember!"

She felt sick, and she wanted to cry her eyes out. But for some reason, some inner determination told her should would not do either.

"Take it easy, dear," he said soothingly, "Amnesia is said to be one of the side effects of the Slave Crown. Everything will come back to you. I promise, I promise. In time, that is."

Memories suddenly flashed across her mind. Words, names, places, pain, fear, a medley of thoughts and emotions. Suddenly, one name stuck out clearly among the jumble.

She looked up and met the old man's gaze. "My name is Terra," she told him firmly.

Once again his eyes went wide. "That is absolutely amazing! Impressive! Remarkable! I've never heard of _anyone_ recovering quite this fast. You are one very special young lady. Of course, the Slave Crowns are so rare, we hardly know anything about them. The Empire reserves them only for those that the Emperor considers most important to their plans."

That thought suddenly sent chills through her. It made her feel so small, insignificant, and very, very alone. She sniffed back tears, but it must have been clear to the old man, for he came over and held her gently, like a grandfather, rocking her back and forth.

Another memory flashed in her head, another man, with a beard and hair more blond than brown, dressed in a garish yellow longcoat, comforting her as the old man was doing now.

Suddenly the sound of dogs barking loudly came from the front room, and just after that there was a heavy pounding knock.

"Open up!" yelled someone, "Open this door! Give us back the girl and the Magitek armor!"

The man ran from the bedroom to the main sitting room, and watched as the front door cracked a little from the heavy pounding.

"Open this bloody door, Arvis! We want that girl! She's an officer for the flaming Empire!"

"Empire?" asked Terra quietly, standing in the bedroom doorway, "Magitek armor? But I'm not… am I… you said…"

"Look dear, I don't have time to explain," he said quickly, then led her back into the bedroom, "I have to get you out of here. You did some things tonight, while you were under the control of the Slave Crown. The guards want you dead. Don't ask why, it's better you don't know for now. Take this."

He handed her a short sword that he had grabbed from somewhere. Ancients knew if Terra had seen where he had picked it up. He opened the back door and tried to hurry her on.

"You have to move quickly, Terra," he said, "Make your way across the bridges over to the mines. There are escape tunnels there, you can get out of town that way. If I can I'll send someone after you to help. In the meantime I'll keep these brutes occupied for as long as I can. Go, hurry!"

The old man turned back inside and hastily closed the door. Not knowing what else to do, Terra began making her way across the bridges. The town was nestled into the valley within the mountains, and the bridges connected the higher levels of the mines without having to go through town. Unfortunately, they were in plain view of the roads within the town. And red was not the most inconspicuous of colors.

"There she is!" she dimly heard over the sound of rushing wind. Below her she could see at least a dozen or two guards in brown uniforms with facemasks to protect against the cold winds gather below her. She could only barely make out what they were saying.

"She's heading into the mines!"

"Do you think she knows about any of the exits?"

"Who flaming cares! We do! And we can flaming beat her to any of them! Move out!"

Around the guards were common townsfolk who were looking at her with disgust and hatred. A few of them even threw a couple handfuls of wrinkled old fruit at her.

Choking back sobs and a fury she couldn't understand, Terra raced forward into the mines. Oil lamps sat lighted within the caves, spaced intermittently to provide more than enough light.

With no idea of where she was going, Terra pushed on through the mines, fighting her way through the giant mine rats, many of which wore harnesses that spoke of domestication. The deadly mine vapors seemed have a life of their own, trying to choke Terra as she passed. Somehow her sword was just as effective a weapon against them as anything she could think of.

It wasn't until she'd been in the mines for over a half-hour that she ran into a group of creatures she hadn't seen before and couldn't imagine anything more ugly. They were hideous, gnomish men with hunched backs. Their oversized green shirts seemed to make them look comical, until the closest one knocked Terra back with the heavy wrench it was carrying.

Terra sprang back to her feet, slicing wide with her borrowed sword, killing that one. Two more came in and it took her some fast swordplay to prevent them from hitting her too much. She had no idea how to wield a sword, but somehow her arm moved with instinctive skill.

Suddenly she tripped on a rock, and the creature next to her landed a solid blow against her leg. As Terra fell over one more cut hewed the little thing's head. As she tried to push herself back up, the last little creature threw one of its wrenches at her, striking Terra squarely in the chest.

Anger boiled up inside of her, rage taking over her senses. Without realizing exactly what she was doing, a stream of fire shot forth from her extended hand. The little creature squealed as the flames engulfed it. When Terra's vision finally pushed past the red cloud of anger, she could see the charred husk of the little man. Looking down, Terra saw little wisps of smoke rising from her palm, although it didn't hurt and her hand looked unharmed.

_What the bloody hell was that?_ she wondered, then instantly chastised herself for her language.

But no matter her language, Terra was still in shock at what she had unconsciously done. Somehow she knew that it just wasn't normal to shoot fire from your hand. Not normal at all.

She tried standing, but her leg had taken a bad blow from one of the creatures.

_Burn me, I have to get up._

As Terra rested a hand against her leg, she was once again astonished as her hand suddenly seemed to glow with a soft green light, and after a few moments the pain vanished.

_Okay, now I'm scaring my-flaming-self_, she thought, this time without worrying about her language.

Picking herself up off the ground, Terra set her face into one of determination and began pressing on towards one of the exits she knew had to be there. But just as she was rounding a bend towards some brighter light, a Narshe guard came around from the other direction and saw her.

"Got her!" he yelled, "Sir, I've found her! Bring the others!"

"No!" she screamed, and then began running back the other direction. There had to be another way out of these mines, she could keep them back long enough for…

A squad of guards suddenly appeared in front of her.

"We have her boxed in!" yelled one of them.

"Keep her contained, get as many men as you flaming can to hold that bloody witch where she is!" ordered another.

Scared and confused, not knowing what to do, Terra kept backing up into a corner as the two squads of guards advanced on her.

"Now we got you," sneered one of the guards.

Just as he said that, however, the ground beneath Terra seemed to suddenly give way. She screamed as she fell, and didn't stop until she hit her head on the ground when she finally landed, and everything went black.

* * *

Sights and sounds wove in and out of her mind, images and the ghosts of memories bombarded her mind.

She was tied down into a chair, the metal walls of the room looked stark and cold. The gag in her mouth made it difficult to even swallow. A man came around into her vision, tall and dressed in bright colors, with ruffled sleeves and a high collar, he looked almost comical.

_Almost_ comical.

"My sweet little witch," he said softly, grinning evilly as he gave a high-pitched maniacal laugh, "Now I finally have you exactly where I want you. You can't imagine what a struggle old Cid put up to keep you in the research center. He thought I was a danger to you. Vweee, hehehe! The fool! With this Slave Crown, I will _own_ you! You will become the weapon you were born to be; _my_ weapon!"

As the brown, wire-studded circlet approached her head, the image faded to darkness, to be replaced with new ones.

There was a village, it was burning. She could see people, running around, screaming. Why weren't they doing anything to stop this! Why were they so terrified? She saw a group of guards approaching her, weapons drawn and ready.

_Wait. Stop! Why are you attacking me! What have I done!_ she asked desperately, and then realized it was only within her own mind.

The guards charged her wildly, as she looked down she saw a control panel with switches and levers. Suddenly a bolt of pure energy shot from her and vaporized one of the guards. Two more blasts ended the lives of the other soldiers.

A young woman was suddenly next to her, banging her fists against the metal monstrosity Terra found herself in. A few more buttons and a massive metal arm swung around and struck the woman, sending her flying into one of the burning homes. The rest of the building then collapsed on top of her.

Suddenly the painted man strode up next to her in an identical suit of armor. He was laughing hysterically. Remembering his laugh made Terra want to cringe.

"Good! Wonderful! Torch it all, my sorceress! Burn this village to the ground!"

And she did.

The memory faded, and more images flashed through her. They slowed again for her to see herself on the roof of some massive structure. The painted man was there, along with another man, just as tall, and far more regal despite the odd haircut, everything shaved but for a strip down the center. There was a woman there too, Terra couldn't see anything except for the snow-white cloak that hung from her shoulders.

And there was an old man there, too. He seemed regal and important, dressed in rich robes. He strode forward, addressing an audience that Terra couldn't see.

"Citizens of the Empire, today is a great day. For so many years we have been uniting our continent under one banner, so that the war that your fathers and mothers saw so many years ago will never again occur. Now we stand united! We stand strong! We are one people!"

Cheers overwhelmed her and forced the old man to stop. Moments later they finally quieted down, and he spoke again.

"Today we stand upon the brink of a major breakthrough! We now are poised to meet our destiny in the north. We have friends there, and many enemies, but we are strong and united and we will overcome them! My scientists have been hard at work and in the days to come we will see a total revival of magic! It is a force beyond reckoning, beyond imagination! It is our destiny, and ours alone as the sole unified people of the world, to take this mystic force and claim what is rightfully ours! With this new-found power, no enemy can stand in our way! We will destroy those who serve chaos and anarchy, and we _shall unite the world!_"

The cheers were deafening, she couldn't even have heard her own thoughts, if she'd had any. It was inspiring, it was a noble goal, it was… horrific what they were willing to do to achieve it.

As the memory-dream faded to blackness once again, Terra's last though was a question as to what horrors she had done to help those people fulfill that goal.

* * *

Arvis paced back and forth in his sitting room. The guards had thoroughly searched his home, but fortunately hadn't found the slave crown hidden in a space below the floorboards of his bedroom.

The Marshal had been quite furious when the guards didn't find anything, and swore to come back and make Arvis tell everything he knew. Arvis wasn't too worried, even if the Marshal had the stomach for what he said he'd do, torture was not something Elder Kendrik would ever condone.

"You said it was urgent," said a voice.

Arvis spun around to find a young man with light brown hair sitting lazily in the chair. He wore blue denim pants and a similar vest over a plain white shirt, with a blue bandanna tied back over his head and fingerless gloves on his hands.

"You're late," replied Arvis with a feral grin, "So, how goes the robbing and plundering trade?"

The youth leapt out the chair with a look of shock and indignation.

"I _prefer_ the term treasure-hunting, if you don't mind," he said quietly.

Arvis let himself have a hearty laugh at his young friend's expense, and was gratified to see the hint of a grin on his face. "Semantic nonsense, Locke. You above all others should know how little words mean to people."

Locke nodded. "Yeah, I do. But it's not nonsense. There is a huge difference. Stealing is taking something that belongs to someone else. Treasure-hunting is taking something that doesn't belong to anyone."

The older man held up his hands in mock surrender. "Whatever you want to call it, kid. It just sometimes seems that your treasure is anything that isn't bolted down."

"Look, Arvis, you're the one that sent for me, remember?" commented Locke, "So do you need me for something or should I go out and find myself some treasure."

The older man's face turned deadly serious in an instant, and Locke dropped his entire playful manner. There were times for jokes and humor, and there weren't. This was apparently one of the latter. Arvis forced himself to take a deep breath.

"There's a girl that I would like for you to meet," he said diplomatically.

Locke blew out his breath. "A girl?" he asked, exasperation clear in his voice, "You called me out of the inn after what happened last night, with bloody Ancients knows how many guards dead, and you want me to meet… wait. This better not have anything to do with that Magitek-riding, Imperial… _witch_!"

Arvis extended his hand, and Locke took what had been in it. A brown circlet with wires and metal knobs in a dome shape. Locke gasped and felt his blood turn to ice. He almost threw it to the ground as though it suddenly burned him.

"Is this…?"

"A Slave Crown," finished Arvis, "Yeah. The girl, Terra, she was wearing it when I found her. As you can see, the thing is fried, I don't think we'll be able to figure out how those flaming things work, but take it with you. If she was wearing that, then you can be bloody well sure Imperial troops will be after her, and that, and get them back. And as we clearly saw last night, this town is no match for the Empire."

"This can't be real," muttered Locke, "I mean, last we heard, the Empire had, what, _four_ slave crowns? Why would they go wasting them on a girl?"

"I don't think it was a waste," replied the older man, "She came to very quickly after I removed the crown, and she remembered her name a few moments later. She clearly wasn't the one in control of her actions. She was just a puppet on Imperial strings. We must get her to understand our dilemma. Narshe can't survive against the Empire. We have to convince the Elder's Council and particularly Elder Kendrik to ally with the Returners."

"All right, all right already," sighed Locke, "You're going to be the death of me. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, and why do you think I've gone gray so early, kid?" replied Arvis with a grin.

Locked nodded. "Then I guess I'd better go and help her. Where is she?"

"I sent her into the mines just as the guards showed up," explained Arvis, "She probably doesn't know where any of the exits are, so look around on the first few levels. You can't miss her; bright green hair and a red silk dress. You have to get her to Banon as quickly as possible."

"No can do. Imperial patrols are too heavy south of Figaro."

"Then get her first to Figaro, talk to the king, maybe he can help the two of you out somehow. Good journey."

Locke nodded his thanks and slipped out the way he'd come in, through the back door. In the early morning sun, most of the people of Narshe were trying to clean up from the massacre the night before. Even the two guards stationed at the mine entrance were too busy looking at the mess in the town below to pay him any attention. Locke easily slipped past them and into the mines.

He wasn't a particularly skilled tracker, but even Locke could make out the heeled boot marks in the gravel floor made from decades of mining.

_A child could have followed her through this place_, he thought with a grin.

Farther into the mines, Locke found the bootprints of men, a lot of them. He followed them back into a corner where the light was swallowed up by a deep hole. The heeled boots had led right there. It was too tight a fit for anyone in armor, but for Locke it was doable.

"Burn you, Arvis," he whispered as he squeezed himself into the hole, "you owe me for this."

He continued to push and climb his way down, until he had descended what had to have been at least three levels of the mines. Suddenly his feet were kicking about wildly in midair. Locke continued a little slower, until he could see below him. It looked like a natural cavern, large flames hung in mid-air along the walls. Below him there was a form of red and green.

Locke let go and landed lightly. He turned to the girl. She was breathing lightly, but there was a nasty bump on her head.

"Now how do I flaming get you out of here?" he asked himself.

"Marshal! Sir! We've found a new area!" yelled a voice from the other end of the cavern.

"Take a few squads and see what you can find!"

"Yes sir!"

"Wonderful," muttered Locke, "There's a whole flaming bunch of 'em."

"Kupo!"

Locke spun on his heel, and nearly jumped back in shock. Almost a dozen small, white-furred creatures with tiny wings surrounded the girl. They looked up at Locke, then several looked down the cavern. Quickly chittering to themselves, they formed up in three groups, one group immediately went down one of the pathways towards the guards.

"Kupo!"

A second group was looking up at him expectantly.

"Moogles?" he breathed, "Are… are you saying… you want to help me?"

"Kupo!"

The third group, he saw, still surrounded Terra, and a couple were doing some kind of strange dance. Shrugging his shoulders at the madness of it all, Locke turned back around and led the Moogles down another one of the paths.

The guard squads were composed mostly of kids younger than Locke. Most of the older guards had probably been killed the night before, he realized with disgust. The fights were over quickly, as the Moogles were fierce combatants with their own weapons, but both they and Locke did their best not to kill anyone. Farther away, Locke could feel the cavern shake with what had to be cave-ins, though he didn't realize why that would be happening now after the mines had existed for so long.

Finally, Locke and his team made it to the other end of the cave, where he was shocked to see the Marshal-Captain of Narshe's guards there waiting.

"Who the bloody hell are you!" he asked.

"I'm with these Moogles, who are defending their home grounds," he bluffed, "you're men are mostly unharmed, but you have to leave, the Moogles will bring the injured back to the upper levels of the mines when they're certain you've gone."

The Marshal suddenly smirked as he drew his sword. "What nonsense. The Imperial witch is back there, isn't she? Stand aside rogue, this is not your business. If you leave Narshe immediately no harm will come to you."

"I can't do that," said Locke firmly, even as he became aware that his dagger was pitifully small compared to the other man's sword.

"As you wish."

He sprang forward, and Locke was hard-pressed to prevent the Marshal from killing him in the first pass. Alone, the Marshal would have had Locke's head on a pike inside a minute. But the Moogles turned the tide, their small spears and swords whittling away the Marshal's ability to fight. After several minutes, Locke finally managed to solidly plant his dagger in the man's right shoulder, then knocked him out with a fierce punch.

"Ow! Bloody Ancients!" he cried out, holding his hand.

The Moogles chittered among themselves, and Locke was certain they were laughing at him. They quickly met up with other group, and together they returned to the girl. The Moogles that had stayed with her seemed to just be finishing up, the bump on her head was now gone.

"Kupo!" they cried as they disappeared into the cavern's shadows.

"Thanks Moogles," Locke said softly, "Couldn't have done it without you. All right sweetheart, let's get you out of here."

With that, the young rogue picked Terra up and carried her over his shoulder. She was very lightweight, and Locke had no trouble navigating through the lower caverns and up into the more familiar mines as he made his way to one of the secret exits long forgotten about.

He gently laid Terra on the ground and then went over to one of the walls.

"All right, now which bloody switch is it?" he mused, then spotted it, "Aha, I think this one'll…"

Pulling down on the lever disguised as any normal thrust of stone activated the hinges. A section of the wall slid back several inches, and then swung open, revealing a long dark tunnel.

"I'm never gonna be able to carry her through…"

"Ohhh."

Locke turned to see the girl beginning to stir. She shook her head, obviously trying to clear the cobwebs, and her vibrant green curls shook back and forth. She really was quite beautiful, Locke finally realized. He came and knelt down next to her.

"So, you're finally back with us, now?" he asked.

"Who… who are you?" she returned, her voice still a little shaky.

He grinned. "The name's Locke, adventurer and treasure-hunter extraordinaire! I came down through the mines after you, help you get out of Narshe and to somewhere that's safe."

Her emerald eyes were filled with confusion. "You, did you save me from the guards? All I can remember is the ground opening beneath my feet, and then… falling."

Terra suppressed a shudder as the memory of those dreams came back to her. The painted man who put the slave crown on her seemed to be sneering at her. She shook her head again to clear the man from her eyes. The young man, Locke, was watching her intently. Not like he was studying her, for his eyes were compassionate, but he was definitely curious.

Locke shrugged again. "Not by myself. You should save your thanks for the Moogles. They did more than I could have. You had a pretty nasty bump on the head that they healed."

"Moogles?" she questioned, and a half-remembered image of a small white-furred being flashed briefly in her eyes.

"So, what do you have that Empire wanted so desperately?" wondered Locke, "All I can see is an attractive girl, sure with a weird hair color, but I don't see anything else about you that they'd sacrifice a Slave Crown for."

Terra swallowed nervously. She wasn't about to reveal the flames shooting from her hand or the glow that had healed her leg. So she settled for a little white lie.

"I… I can't remember anything," she said, "past or present. Not where I come from, not what I've done all the years of my life, not even how I ended up here in Narshe."

"Amnesia?" muttered Locke, and suddenly his own mind was filled memories that he wished he could forget. Memories of his beloved Rachel, falling in the cave, losing her memory of their love, and his failing her. Ancients he wished he could have saved her.

"There was a man in the town," said Terra, interrupting his thoughts, "he said that my memory would come back."

Locke nodded, this wasn't the time to dwell on his memories. "That would be Arvis. He's a good guy, he's the one that sent me to find you and help out. Give your memory some time, he only removed the crown this morning. You'll be safe with me. I give you my word of honor that I won't leave you at least until your memory returns. I swear it on all the treasure in the world."

Her smile was radiant in its gratitude. With a smile of his own, Locke extended a hand to help Terra to her feet. Holding her hand to be sure to stay together, Locke plunged down into the dark tunnel, that was only sixty or so paces long before he pushed aside the false rock face and brought the two of them into the late morning sunlight.

As Terra emerged he found the outside control lever and switched it to its original position. The outside rock face suddenly slid back into position, and Locke knew that the same had happened inside the mines.

"By the way," he said, "you may want to remember about this secret entrance. Narshe has about a half a dozen of them scattered throughout the mines, but this one has long been forgotten. This little outcropping here is the control switch. So try not to forget about it."

He said the last with a wink and a grin, and Terra couldn't help but smile. Nothing seemed to bother Locke, and she liked him.

"Where are we going?" she wanted to know.

"I'm going to get you far from Narshe," Locke answered, "the safest place I can think of. Figaro."


	5. Chapter 3: The Desert Castle

I want to thank MogGuy for your candid reviews. I must say you gave me perhaps my first mostly negative review. Thank you for your honesty. In response to your comments, yes, there was a great deal of swearing, particularly by Vicks in the first chapter. But you will come to see it much less in the future, as it is a trait that is particular to certain characters. Also, the characters _will_ change their outfits from time to time, but that is a relatively minor detail to me. Lastly, random battles do occur, but they will be fairly infrequent. I want to capture more of the characters themselves and not the battles. I hope this answers your comments, and I look forward to hearing more. Everyone else, please give me your reviews, they honestly keep me out of writing slumps. Thank you and enjoy.

* * *

The journey south was a long and tiring one. Locke set a hard march, wanting to put as much distance between themselves and Narshe as quickly as he could. Surprisingly, despite her delicate appearance, Terra matched his pace without too much effort. She never complained, never whined that her feet hurt, despite the heeled boots. They rested when Locke decided to rest, ate when he thought they should, and camped when he called for camp.

The journey was a quiet one over the several days across the plains and through the lightly wooded forests. Terra remained quiet and somewhat aloof during their trek, and Locke was unsure how to approach her for a conversation. In all, it made things a little bit awkward.

Locke had taken them around several small villages without stopping to see if there was an inn or if they could get any food. Every night he would set a trap or two and could usually end up with a decently sized leafer, oversized omnivorous rabbits that were unafraid of people and would attack in packs.

Their sixth night out from Narshe was like any other, Locke was just getting a fire going, ready to cook the leafer that he'd caught less than an hour ago.

"Thank you."

He turned to Terra quickly, unsure if he'd heard correctly. She was smiling slightly at him.

"I never really appreciated what you did for me in the mines," she told him, "so I wanted to make sure that I said thank you. I'm sorry too, for having been such poor company the last few days. All you've done is shown me kindness, and I've repaid that with silence."

Locke shrugged and waved his hand. "Hey, don't worry about it Terra. I've got pretty thick skin. Besides, you're trying to overcome amnesia and get your memories back. That's a tough project. But trust me, you'll figure out your place in the world, I know you will. Just know that you don't have to worry about all of this on your own, you have at least one friend who'll help you as much as he can."

"Thanks, Locke," she said smiling.

Locke's face turned into a wicked grin. "I wasn't talking about me, I was talking about your friend the leafer," he commented, holding up the animal, "it's just such a shame you're about eat your one friend."

Terra laughed out loud, like musical chimes. "Thanks again, I needed that."

"We all need a good laugh every now and then, especially with my horrendous cooking skills," he answered, "So, have you had any luck with your memories? Anything come back to you?"

Terra sobered up instantly, not to sadness, but just serious. "No, nothing. I can't remember anything of my past, and I should have several years worth of memories."

"We'll get you your memory back," Locke assured her, "Now, let me get this rodent cooked and we'll eat."

After that, the journey became much less awkward. The two of them could talk for hours. Locke would ask about something, to see how Terra would react or what she thought of it, trying to help bring out a memory or two. But although Terra could react instinctively to some things, she couldn't bring up a memory as to why.

Two days after they had started talking, the terrain changed quite abruptly into a savanna and then into a desert. Their third day into the desert, Terra began to understand why Locke had gone into one of the small villages and gotten several extra waterskins. The sun beat down on the two of them mercilessly, and there wasn't a drop to drink anywhere.

They became even thirstier when they were forced to fight off giant desert scorpions called araneids. Locke insisted that after every fight they take a long drink of water, otherwise they could die from dehydration.

Finally, one day Locke said they'd gone a little too far south, so he swung them back to the west and then back north, and then as they crossed over one of the many sand dunes, Terra saw it.

Figaro Castle.

Even from a distance, she could tell it was a massive fortress, bigger than most of what she'd seen of the entire town of Narshe. As Locke brought them in closer, Terra's sense of awe continued to grow.

There must have been at least a hundred soldiers outside the walls on patrol, wearing uniforms of light green with red highlights. Their helmets seemed to have slitted leather visors, though none of the soldiers had them over their eyes. Locke explained that during sandstorms the visors kept the sand out of their eyes. Some of the soldiers were on foot, but others rode large yellow birds that her mind quickly found a name for, chocobos. She did notice one thing in particular that separated these men from the guards of Narshe; all of these soldiers had coolly evaluating looks, that calculating gaze of professional soldiers.

Terra grew nervous as they approached the main gate, with the guards staring hard at her and Locke, but was relieved when the guard standing by the main gate seemed to recognize Locke and waved them through with a casual smile.

Once inside, Terra had to struggle to keep up with Locke as her eyes were constantly roving around. She could only stare wide-eyed at the rich furniture, the magnificent tapestries, the fine baubles, and the other amazing works of art that seemed to occupy every nook and cranny, displaying the fabulous wealth and power of Figaro. Somewhere in the recesses of her memory Terra could hear someone say that the kingdom of Figaro was one of the richest and most powerful nations of the world. Now she could believe it.

Nobles and servants hurried everyone, everyone consumed with their business. Men in working suits and merchants selling their goods could be seen in the side wings of the castle, but Locke didn't pay them any attention. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, and led Terra straight to a pair of guarded double doors and pushed them open.

She gasped.

Locke had led them to a long, large throne room. At the far end, seated in one of the two thrones, was a man about Locke's own age. He was tall and regal, his blond hair worn a little long and tied back. He was dressed in an expensive and richly decorated tunic and pants in royal blue highlighted with emerald green, and a cape of the same hue hung from his shoulders. There was no doubt that this was an extraordinarily handsome man, and worse, he knew it.

Standing to one side of the throne, talking with him was a much older man in heavy robes and a large cap, and on the other side of the throne was a young woman, extremely attractive, dressed in a fancy serving girl's outfit. Crowding about near the base of the throne seemed to be nearly a dozen nobles trying to get a word in to him.

All at once, the blond man seemed to notice her and Locke.

"Chancellor Paulus, my lords and ladies, my sweetheart," he said smoothly, finishing with the serving girl, "Please forgive me but I would like some time alone with my recently arrived comrade who brings me news from the far side of the mountains. I will speak with all of you later today."

The Chancellor bowed politely and stepped away from the throne, while the nobles seemed to grumble and groan and threw nasty looks at Terra and Locke. As the girl turned away from the blond man, he took the opportunity and gave her a light, almost affectionate smack on her rear.

Terra swallowed in a little bit of nervousness and disgust. Did this man have no shame?

As soon as everyone had left, he descended from the throne and approached the two of them, wearing a grand smile that just oozed charm and sophistication. Terra felt her knees go a little weak, and then locked them into place. She would not be charmed by anyone!

The man nodded to Locke and then looked Terra up and down with an appraising eye.

"So, you mean to tell me, that _this_ young woman… she's even more beautiful than the letter said," he commented, but as he did so his smile seemed to vanish, then he turned back to the throne, as if thinking something over.

But Terra was in no mood to let him off the hook. "Just who do you think you are?" she demanded. She meant for what he had done to the maid and for looking at her like she was a new trophy for the castle.

He spun back around, looking quite sheepish. "Oh, dear. I am so terribly sorry, my lady. It is unconscionably rude of me to turn my back to a lady, especially one as lovely as yourself. I am Edgar Figaro, king of the great nation of Figaro, the 18th crowned king of my line."

Terra felt her jaw drop. That flourish with his cape when he said his name would have done any bard anywhere in the world proud. The man knew how to impress, that was certain.

Locke was doing his best not to laugh at the interaction between the other two. "I guess you must be somewhat surprised that someone like me knows a king, huh?" he commented to Terra.

Edgar turned to look at him. "Well I am constantly surprised that someone like me knows a thief."

"Treasure hunter, treasure hunter, treasure hunter," muttered Locke fiercely under his breath.

Edgar laughed out loud and even Terra let out a little chuckle. She hadn't known Locke could be so touchy about something.

"Will you excuse Locke and myself for just a moment, my dear?" asked Edgar, grabbing Locke by the shoulder and leading him back towards the thrones.

As soon as they were out of earshot, with their backs to Terra, Edgar's smile vanished.

"How was the journey, are you both all right?" he asked Locke.

The young rogue nodded. "Yeah. We didn't see any Imperial patrols, and we're just a little tired from nearly ten days of walking."

"Good," breathed the king, then his voice turned hard, "So what in your flaming mind thought to bring this… _woman_… to Figaro! Imperial reports are full of demands to find the green-haired woman, detain her, and wait for instructions. So have you just gone completely nuts! You'll bring the whole Empire down on Figaro, and I have a kingdom to protect!"

"Ed, they had her controlled by a Slave Crown!" whispered Locke just as fiercely.

That quieted Edgar down a little. "Are you serious? What could possess Gestahl to waste a Slave Crown on a young woman like her?"

"I don't think it was a waste," replied Locke, "I think the Empire, specifically Gestahl knows what she's worth to them. I've got to get her to Banon, but we need to some time to rest and then we'll get out of here."

Edgar blew out an angry breath. He couldn't refuse his good friend, and he certainly couldn't refuse a lady in need. He glanced over his shoulder at the beautiful young woman standing just out of earshot. She was lovely, nervously wringing her hands and shifting her feet as she waited. He turned back to Locke.

"All right. I can give you two nights," he decided, "that should be long enough before the Empire decides to come knocking at my door. In the meantime for today, people have an unfortunate tendency not to talk to me about rumors, so I want you to see if you can find any and let me know what you find out behind them."

"You got it," agreed Locke, "Thanks, Ed."

"Burn me if I know why I keep helping you."

Locke tossed him a crooked grin and walked back towards Terra. "Everything's going to be fine, trust me. I have some things to do right now, I'll talk to you later."

With that, Locke hurried out of the throne room, eager to get news of whatever he could.

Terra watched him leave the throne room and felt the king's gaze on her. Part of her wanted to run after Locke and stick to his side. But she knew that was foolish, she was a grown woman, she could certainly look after herself in a secured castle. She turned back to the king and gave him a radiant smile.

"So, Locke told me that you're an Imperial soldier," he said easily, that smile back on his face, once again radiating charm and seduction, "Not a problem, Figaro has been allies with the Empire for over twenty years. I beg you to relax while you enjoy my hospitality here. It's not in my blood to allow any harm to befall a lady, especially not in my own castle. I must beg your leave now, m'lady, unfortunately the duties of a king rarely end when I wish them to."

With that, Edgar walked past her with a small bow and began making his way out of the throne room. But Terra was perhaps more confused now than ever, and she needed some answers.

"Stop! Look, why are you helping me? Is it… because of my abilities?" she asked.

Edgar turned and again flashed her his famed smile, though this time it was to cover his confusion.

_Abilities? What in bloody Ancients is she talking about? What abilities? Burn you, Locke, I am definitely going to wring your neck when I see you again._

"I'll give you three reasons why I decided to help you," he replied instead, "First of all, your fabulous beauty has utterly captivated me. Second, I am simply dying to know if I'm your type. I guess your… abilities might come in at a distant third."

"Huh?" wondered Terra, "What is _with_ you, anyway."

Edgar's smile transformed into a more subdued one, more ironic and less pleased with himself. "Hmph. It appears that my technique is getting a bit rusty. Not to worry, though, I will have improved by our next meeting. In the meantime, please feel free to wander the castle as you please, you are my guest. I would honored to have you join me for supper tonight, sunset in the grand hall, I will look forward to seeing you there."

With that, the young king turned on his heel and strode out of the throne room, leaving Terra standing there, lost and confused with her thoughts.

"I guess that was… charming," she muttered to herself, "I suppose a normal girl would have found him so, maybe even dashing." She sighed. "But I'm hardly normal."

She stood there for a few more moments, lost in her sorrow, wishing that she knew who she was, where she came from, and what everyone wanted from her. She wished that none of this was happening to her, she just wanted to disappear from it all, but something within Terra forced her to go on, some hidden reserves of willpower. She would not cower, she would not submit, she would face everything head on and overcome it.

With nothing else to occupy her time, Terra took advantage of Edgar's invitation to explore the castle. The people of Figaro were a friendly lot, and most of the merchants, commoners, and servants that went around the castle greeted her with a smile and a nod. The nobles, on the other hand, must have learned of her "private audience" with the king and glanced at her with disdain and jealousy.

Trying to escape the nobles, Terra found herself wandering into the west wing of the castle, passing guest rooms, armories, and servant quarters, which didn't look half bad. The people of Figaro seemed not just to like and respect King Edgar, but there seemed to be a sense of real camaraderie, they felt as though he was one of them. Several had no problem telling jokes of King Edgar's legendary flirtatiousness, even having come onto the High Priestess on her last visit from South Figaro.

Terra eventually found herself at the far end of the wing and wandered into a large, opulent bed chamber. She gazed, awe-inspired, by the fact that the amazing wealth in this room seemed almost understated.

"Can I help you, my dear?" said a woman's voice. On a seat at the foot of the bed, an elderly woman sat knitting. "Poor Edgar still can't remember to wear socks without holes. It seems an old woman's work is never done."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," said Terra.

"Oh, no bother, sweetheart," answered the old woman, "I don't often have a chance to speak with little Edgar's friends. Except for Mr. Cole, sometimes, when he isn't too busy."

"Little Edgar?" asked Terra amazed, "Who are you?"

The old woman blushed and smiled. "Oh, forgive me dear. I'm known by everyone simply as Matron. I was Queen Raehel's personal attendant, and when she died I helped raise the boys."

"The boys?" wondered Terra, and then she saw a portrait over the stairs. It looked to be a family portrait, a tall, regal-looking man who she almost mistook for Edgar, until she realized it had to be his father, King Andris, she'd heard from the servants. The woman would be Queen Raehel, and the taller boy she could see was Edgar, but the other young boy was unknown to her.

Matron seemed to notice her gaze and her face fell. "Yes, Edgar's younger brother. His name was Sabin, he was such a wonderful boy."

"Was?" echoed Terra, "Is he dead now?"

"No one knows, my dear," answered Matron, "You see, good King Andris was slowly dying of a most dreadful illness. The kingdom's nobility were always crowding the boys, and Sabin was only 13. Edgar had been doing more work to keep the kingdom running, but he was 17 at the time. When King Andris finally passed on, it was his final decree that the two boys jointly hold the throne.

"But little Sabin had only been surrounded by the nobles for preceding days, all of them hoping to curry favor with potentially the next king. He was disgusted by the politics and the intrigue, angry at the expectations everyone had of him. That night, he vanished. He left the castle, and no one has ever heard anything of him for the last ten years. I know that Edgar sent agents to find him, but they found nothing. It is possible little Sabin is dead, but I hope not. I hope he is well. Oh, he was such a sweet little child. I wonder what he would be like now?"

Terra thanked the old woman for her time and left her to her memories. She had enjoyed talking with the Matron, she had been like a kindly grandmother. She had felt the same way with Arvis back in Narshe, she hoped he was doing all right.

For the next hour, Terra explored the east wing of the castle, eventually coming upon the royal library, where she overheard two men discussing magic. From their descriptions, Terra began to get a vague sense of unease.

_Magic?_ she wondered, _Is that what I did back in Narshe? Those flames?_

Terra decided that it would probably be best to return to Edgar and Locke, see what they thought of all this and what their next move would be. She hurried on ahead back to the throne room, passing the Chancellor outside in the antechamber pacing nervously. The two guards at the doors let her pass with barely a nod of recognition.

She went in and saw Edgar again seated on his throne, Locke was standing next to him. They were talking in low voices and stopped as she approached.

_I wonder whether they were having a good time deciding my future,_ Terra thought with a little resentment.

* * *

"I'm telling you Edgar, I must have run across twenty people all of whom were saying that a large Imperial force had landed to the southwest," Locke was saying, "If that's true, and they go at a hard march, they could be on the castle within another day or two."

Edgar shook his head. "I just can't believe that Emperor Gestahl would be so foolish as to openly move against his most powerful ally in the north. He's an excellent politician and leader, I can't accept that he'd make a move this… stupid."

"Well, he may have decided he no longer wants an ally up north," suggested Locke, "maybe he's decided that its time he had a vassal. I know you believe me about the Imps to the south, because even you have to know three scout teams haven't come back."

Edgar nodded sullenly. "Still, it'll take them another few days to cross the Figaro Desert. I'll have the castle's defenses prepped by then. In the meantime, I think you and Terra will have to go in the morning, before the Imperials get too close."

Both men glanced up as they heard the doors to the throne room open and Terra came through, beautiful as ever. They shared a look.

"We have time, Locke," insisted the king.

Locke didn't agree, but he held his tongue as Terra came up to the throne. He gave her a winning smile.

"What have you two troublemakers been talking about?" she asked sweetly.

Too sweetly, Locke realized, either she knew what they'd been saying, or she'd taken offense at something, probably to not being included.

"Only politics, my lady," Edgar assured her, "nothing that we would want to trouble you with. So how do you like my castle? I trust everyone has made you feel comfortable?"

Terra was about to answer when the doors were suddenly flung open and a soldier rushed through, pausing only long enough to fall to one knee before the throne.

"King Edgar, there is… someone… from the Empire… on their way," said the soldier, somewhat out of breath.

"Calm yourself, soldier," said Edgar calmly, "catch your breath. Where is the Imperial coming from?"

"From the southwest, your majesty. A small honor guard accompanies him. But he, he looks like a clown!"

Edgar grunted. "Probably Kefka. No good can come of this, that's for sure."

Terra was silent, because an icy cold shudder ran through her at the mention of that name. Kefka. She hadn't heard it before, but that name brought out feelings of hatred, disgust, and a little bit of fear.

"Locke, you definitely keep yourself out of sight. Same goes for Terra. Kefka may be here for some reason other than the two of you, but the way things are going today, I highly doubt it."

"Edgar, is there somewhere I can watch, without being seen?" asked Terra. She didn't know why, but she knew she had to see this man, this Kefka.

He eyed her warily, weighing the desire to keep her from exposing herself with not wanting to refuse her. Edgar turned back to Locke.

"Take her to one of the spy holes on the second floor, and make flaming sure the two of you aren't seen!" he ordered.

Locke didn't answer, he simply took hold of Terra's hand and led her out of the throne room. Edgar put on his crown, swirled his cape, and squared his shoulders, coming out of the throne room looking every inch the king.

_Okay Kefka. Showtime!_

* * *

Terra doubted that Figaro Castle would ever cease to amaze her. Leading her past dozens of soldiers armed with advanced crossbows, Locke took her to a spot that gave her a perfect view of the royal gardens, while at the same time she realized no one in the gardens would have a clue she was there.

And that's when she saw him. Her heart froze over in fear. The painted man from her nightmares. The man who put the Slave Crown on her. Rage boiled up inside her and overwhelmed the fear. Terra wanted nothing more than to incinerate the man with the power at her fingertips. Magic. She could feel it, wanted more than anything to let the flames roll through the air.

But she couldn't do it. Terra knew that killing this man would bring the entire Empire down on Figaro, and despite Edgar's proclivities and flirting with her, he had risked a lot to help her and Locke. Besides, there were too many innocent lives here that the Empire would destroy. Terra steeled herself and tried to listen in as Edgar approached Kefka and his retinue.

* * *

"May the Ancients favor you. I regret that the luxuries here are perhaps inadequate to your honored needs, but I shall do as best I can," greeted Edgar, using as much pomp and old welcoming customs that he could remember, "What brings Kefka, general of the Iron Fortress and humble servant of the noble Emperor Gestahl into our lowly presence?"

Kefka sneered at him. With his ruffled, lace-filled outfit, pale face highlighted with red make-up and constantly shifting eyes, Kefka indeed did look like an overpainted, yet still dangerous clown.

"There is a girl I am looking for," he answered haughtily, "She recently escaped from our justice. We had heard rumors that she found refuge here. But I doubt that any ally of Gestahl's would give refuge to one of his enemies?"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," Edgar assured him, "But… hmmm, this wouldn't have anything to do with this witch that everyone keeps whispering about, would it? The rumors say she's been an Imperial weapon for many years."

_Chew on that, Kefka_, thought Edgar, _We both know Terra is about as secret as anything the Empire has. Now you can wonder if the whole bloody continent knows about her._

"Lies!" screamed Kefka, his voice too highly-pitched for his person, "All of those rumors are lies. I expected more from the renowned king of Figaro. I wasn't about to believe you could be taken in by mere rumors. This girl merely stole something of minor value, and as she has been eluding me for some time, it is now a matter of pride that she is caught, not value. So tell me, is she here?"

Edgar smiled. Tales of Kefka's mania and short temper were numerous and detailed. It must be absolutely killing him to remain so civil to an Imperial ally.

"Well, burn me but that's a tough one," he said smoothly, "You see, I love women, and have a tendency to collect them around me. At this point, there's probably more girls in this castle than there are grains of sand out in my desert. Even if she was here, I might never know. I can't possibly keep track of all my lovely ladies."

Edgar would have laughed at his own wit, except Kefka moved with viperish speed, rushing forward and wrapping a hand around Edgar's throat. With superhuman strength for that delicate-looking body of his, Kefka easily lifted the king off the ground with one hand.

Edgar could hear the sounds of hundreds of weapons ready to fire on Kefka. He waved for them all to hold. He would not start a war. Kefka had nothing on Figaro, he couldn't move without authorization from Gestahl, and Gestahl knew he had nothing to justify an attack on Figaro. Kefka knew that too.

"I would hate to be you when we find out that you're lying," whispered Kefka fiercely, "I doubt very much you'll like what we do."

With that, Kefka threw Edgar to the ground. Without a word, Edgar picked himself off and brushed off his tunic, unwilling to let the fear he felt show on his face. He coolly met the maniac's gaze.

"I truly hope nothing happens to your precious Figaro!" cackled Kefka, "Don't disappoint Gestahl, or especially myself. Have the girl ready when I return!"

With that, Kefka turned on his heel and marched out of the castle, followed by the Imperial honor guard.

Edgar was aware of his soldiers' eyes on him, and even though he wanted to fall to the ground and breathe deeply in relief, he still had to give them a good show. He couldn't show weakness. So instead, he looked down at his ruined tunic.

"Burn him," he said with a wry shake of his head, "I was saving this outfit for the next visit by the High Priestess. Oh well, I'll have to find something more flattering."

As he walked back into the castle, he could hear several of the soldiers chuckling. Perfect, exactly as he'd intended.

Locke was waiting for him at the base of the grand stairs. The young rogue was still swallowing nervously.

"That guy freaks me out, Edgar," he said, "I'd say he's missing more than just a few buttons."

Edgar nodded tightly. He gingerly stretched his throat, knowing there would probably be at least one bruise there in the morning. He blew out a sigh.

"Where's Terra?" asked Edgar, looking around.

"Here," came the young woman's voice, followed a moment later by her vibrant green hair, "That… that was Kefka?"

"That was him," agreed Edgar with a nod, not noticing the shudder that ran through Terra, "one of the highest ranking officers of the Empire and a first-class maniac."

"My liege," interrupted the Chancellor.

Edgar nodded to the man and then turned back to Locke and Terra. "Locke, please take her to one of the guest rooms in the east wing, and select one for yourself. I'll have servants clean your clothes and give you sleeping shifts. My dear Terra, I would like nothing better than to wine and dine you as I had planned, but unfortunately Chancellor Paulus and I must plan our castle's strategy against Kefka's inevitable attack. To be honest, sometimes I hate the duties required of a king. Until later, Terra."

With a flourish of his cape, both for her benefit and that of the watching soldiers, Edgar disappeared back into the castle. She kept staring at the doors for several moments, realizing that her presence had put everyone in this castle in danger. She was the one who would bring them to ruin. She should get out of here, Edgar and his people were innocent, she should…

Terra gave a start when Locke rested his hand on her upper arm.

"Come on Terra," he said gently, "It's been a long week, and you need some rest. Let me show you to your room."

With that, Locke turned and led Terra back into the castle, but took her into the east wing, to a series of bedrooms. She gently sat down on the bed, worry for Figaro making her frown.

"Hey Terra," said Locke, "Edgar knew what he was doing when he offered you sanctuary. I don't want you to worry about a thing. I'll…"

"Locke," she interrupted, "I overheard Edgar and a lot of the servants talking about you. That you've been a friend of the king for a while, and have his ear. But is it true that you're a thief?"

Locke scowled and his voice became tight. "That's treasure hunter. I'm a bloody treasure hunter, not a bloody thief. Edgar and I have been friends since we were kids. My father somehow knew King Andris, Edgar's father. He was a Figaran before he moved to Kohlingen to raise me with my mother. We'd come to the castle many times when I was younger, and it was just natural that Edgar and I hooked up to torment everybody."

His sarcastic laughter meant that he had probably made life miserable for his and Edgar's parents. But there was still something bothering her.

"But Locke, this Kefka is hunting me down," she protested, "if Edgar is an ally of the Empire then why is he helping hide me? Wouldn't it make sense for him to turn me in and spare his people the harm?"

Locke nodded gently. "On the surface, yes, Edgar pretends to be a loyal ally and supporter of the Empire. He's their strongest ally outside their continent. The alliance between Figaro and the Empire goes back more than twenty years, as does their alliance with Doma. But the truth is that Edgar has been collaborating with the Returners for a very long time. They're a resistance movement opposing the Empire, and we're led by Banon, one of the greatest heroes of his day. I'm Edgar's contact with the Returners, since any time he leaves his castle it's under intense scrutiny by spies from everywhere. The man you met in Narshe, Arvis, he's one of us too."

Terra thought long and hard on that, not realizing that she was gripping the satin sheets of the bed with all her strength. "You're opposed to the Empire…" she mused, "but I'm a soldier of the Empire and…"

"That's not true!" cried Locke fiercely, causing Terra to snap to awareness and look at the rogue, who was now blushing from his outburst and continued in a much calmer voice, "They were using you. That device you had on your head was a Slave Crown. Whatever they told you to do, you _had_ to do. But now you're free of that bloody machine, and you can make your own choices. Everything is different now."

Terra shook her head, her slightly curly green tresses flipping from side to side. "I don't understand anything anymore. I don't know who I am, where I come from, or how my life has come to end up like this; running and hiding. What should I do?" she pleaded, looking at Locke.

The young rogue gave her a look with as much sympathy and compassion as he could. "I can't tell you what to do," he answered sadly, "If I did, that would make me no different than the Empire who controlled you. You need to decide the course of your own life. But you should relax. You don't have to decide right now. When we get to Banon, he'll explain everything and help you. You should get some sleep now, no telling when the next chance is that we'll sleep in comfortable beds. Don't think any more about this, Terra, and don't worry, you'll soon find you way."

As Locke turned and left, he was quickly replaced by a servant girl who helped Terra out of her dirty red dress, then drew her a bath and laid a sleeping gown out neatly for her. Part of Terra enjoyed the luxury of the bath, but another part of her mind was still confused.

Oh Locke, how will I know which way is right?


	6. Chapter 4: Flight of Survival

Welcome back to my imagination, Wonwingangel, good to see you again! Yeah, the profanity was supposed to be more fantastical. If I get many more comments, I may get rid of it, but I thought with them in context they should make some sense. Maybe I was wrong, give it a little time and see what you think in another chapter or two.

MogGuy, to answer a few of your points, yes, Edgar and Sabin are twins in the game, but for my own reasons I decided just to make them brothers in this fic. Mostly it was because their interaction in the game struck me as more big brother/little brother instead of twins. And as for a Terra/Sabin fic, well, read my other story Dark Esper and you'll see what the paring is. I don't discriminate with Sabin, I think he works equally well with Terra or with Celes.

Finally, to everyone else, you will quickly see that Sabin is my favorite character of all, and a lot of this story is going to revolve around him. My own little creative license taking effect here. I always thought he was underused and ill-explained in the game, and I always thought he should have had a lot more depth than he was given, so he gets it here. Anyway, please send in more reviews, I hunger for them, even if you want to say this story is awful, tell me what I can try and fix. Thank you and enjoy.

* * *

Edgar was tossing and turning on the couch. His private study lay just off the throne room. In there he stored schematics for his latest inventions and other private notes, as well as a sofa for him to rest, which was much more comfortable than his throne. It was a very convenient arrangement for him in cases like this, when he didn't want to make the long trek all the way to the royal bedchamber in the west wing.

He had spent the last seven hours with Chancellor Paulus and the general of the Figaro army. They'd shut themselves in the throne room until well after midnight planning for the inevitable Imperial assault. Edgar couldn't believe how stressed Kefka's visit had made him. He felt wound so tightly that it was a miracle that he hadn't snapped already. Edgar belatedly realized he should have had one of the servant girls come up and give him a massage, something he'd done many times before. Unfortunately, such rub-downs had rarely led anywhere, but Edgar knew eventually they would. He smiled to himself.

Suddenly the entire castle shuddered and Edgar could hear several explosions. He instantly rolled off the sofa and was ready to spring in any direction.

A heartbeat later two soldiers rushed into the room.

"Your majesty!" cried one of them, who immediately ran over to help him to his feet.

Edgar marched out of his study into the throne room with all the dignity and majesty that he could muster. Chancellor Paulus was already there pacing, his eyes darting around as the castle shuddered. Edgar briefly felt sorry for the older man, who was approaching 70 years old and still drove himself as though he was 25, and often did a better job at it than Edgar himself

"What's happening!" demanded Edgar.

"Highness, we are under attack by what appears to be an Imperial battalion," answered the old advisor, "and General Kefka is at the forefront!"

"Burn him!" cursed Edgar, hardly noticing as two servants buckled on a heavy breastplate and strapped on his sword, "Reinforce the soldiers on the southwest battlements, two of the auto-spearthrowers broke down the other day. Do not engage any of our other defensive systems but have the engineers prepare the conversion mechanisms."

As he gave those orders, Edgar strode purposefully out of the throne room and into the heat of battle.

* * *

Terra was just getting up off the floor, shaking her still woozy head. She'd sprung from the bed at the sound of the first explosion. However, as she'd struggled to get dressed in her now clean dress, the castle had shuddered with another explosion and she'd lost her balance, banging her head on a table.

Just as she got to her feet and finished with her dress the door burst open.

"Terra!" cried Locke. His shirt was hanging out, his vest was only over one shoulder, and he held a travel pack in his hand. "Are you good to go!"

"One moment!" she yelled back and then grabbed her sword, "Okay, now I am!"

"Good, then let's get the bloody hell out of here!"

Terra felt like most of the people in the castle looked; scared. Servants were running in every direction while soldiers ran from one point to another with determination. Locke led her through a labyrinth of hallways without telling her where their destination was.

"Locke, where are we going? What can Edgar do against the Empire!" she asked worriedly, knowing that she was the reason for this attack.

The rogue looked over his shoulder at her and grinned. "Don't worry, sweetheart. He's a man with a plan."

* * *

Edgar permitted the small Imperial party waving a white flag to enter the castle. If nothing else, it gave him a few moments to get the rest of his soldiers organized. He scowled as Kefka joined him on the walkway over the royal gardens.

"General Kefka, what are you doing?" demanded Edgar, "Figaro and the Empire have been allies for over twenty years, is this how Gestahl's loyal allies are treated?"

Kefka laughed in that horrible, high-pitched squeal of his. "I am growing tired of this incessant game of ours, King Edgar. I always get what I want, and I want the girl that is hiding here. Bring her to me. Now!"

Edgar met the maniac's gaze and held it for several moments. "Kefka, I would not be so stupid as to oppose a direct Imperial order. But by the Ancients I swear I don't know what you're flaming talking about!"

"I pity you, Edgar," cackled Kefka, "How much does it hurt to be such a pathetic liar? Oh well, I guess I just have to welcome you to my barbecue!"

The insane general wandered back towards the main gate of the castle to signal the rest of the Imperial forces to attack. But Edgar had already turned back to the Chancellor and one of the soldiers.

"Get ready," he ordered quietly, "alert the engine room."

"Yes, my liege."

The soldier hurried back into the castle, while Edgar returned to where Kefka was about to signal his troops.

"Kefka, wait!" he called.

The painted general turned around smoothly, with an arrogant smirk on his face. Kefka was confident that he'd broken Edgar, just as he'd broken all others before.

_Boy are you in for one heck of a surprise, Kefka_, thought Edgar, _pity I won't be close enough to see the look on your face then._

"So, mighty King Edgar," sneered Kefka, "have you decided to be a good boy? Are you now a good servant? Did you change your mind about being defiant?"

Edgar nodded slowly as he walked over to the edge of the battlement. What he was waiting for was fast approaching. He had to time this just right.

"It would appear that I have no choice," he said sadly.

_Just stay dumb for a minute longer,_ pleaded Edgar. If Kefka saw the entrances to the castle being sealed and the soldiers disappearing inside this might be ruined. Twenty more seconds…

"Or maybe I do!" cried Edgar, and then threw himself over the battlement, coming to land securely on the back of the racing chocobo next to Locke and Terra. Edgar felt a rush of exhilaration, he never thought he'd be able to make that jump.

The three of them rounded the battlement to the sounds of Kefka's horrific laughter. "Oh this is precious! King Edgar running away! Such a shameful, cowardly act that a king should flee and abandon his people. How utterly delightful! Edgar, you couldn't have made me happier!"

Edgar shrugged grandly enough for Kefka to see. "We'll see about that. Command sequence! Dive now!"

Kefka suddenly spun around, finally noticing that the entirety of the Figaran soldiers had vanished into the castle. He couldn't see that shutters meant to block sand had closed over every window, nor could he see the reinforcements behind every door, or the steel canopy that had risen to cover the royal gardens. But Kefka _could_ feel the strange vibrations that were shaking the entire castle, and then to his unbelievable eyes, the castle began to sink!

Screaming in desperation, Kefka leapt from the top of the battlement into the surrounding sands and scampered a safe distance away. He and his remaining soldiers watched in astonishment as Figaro Castle slowly but completely sank below the sands.

"Impossible," whispered Kefka. The castle had incredible technological defenses, he knew that, but the castle had actually _submerged_ below the sand. What kind of amazing technology did that require?

Suddenly he was knocked to the ground as three golden yellow forms rushed past him and he could hear the taunting laugh of King Edgar.

"No one can touch the people of Figaro!"

Kefka spun on his pair of remaining Magitek armored soldiers. "DESTROY THEM!" he roared, "I don't care what you do, I don't care how, but bring me their corpses!"

The two soldiers instantly took off after the fleeing trio, easily keeping pace with the chocobos, if not a little faster. They kept the yellow-feathered birds at a dead run for nearly fifteen minutes, but even then the Magitek soldiers had gained enough ground to begin firing their weapon systems.

"Edgar!" cried Locke as he dodged a beam of superheated energy that melted sand into glass, "We can't outrun these things forever! We have to make a stand!"

The young king nodded tightly and the trio quickly dismounted, ready for the Magitek soldiers to get in range. Confident of their armored suits, the two soldiers held their fire until they closed the distance to their quarry.

"Die you Returner scum!" yelled one of them. A moment later a beam of crackling energy erupted from his suit. The three young heroes dove in different directions, the force of the blast throwing them forward.

Locke raced for the soldier, ducking quickly as the soldier swung the armor's arm down. The young rogue's quick reflexes saved his life as his knife swung and severed some of the armor's leg cables.

Edgar pulled out one of his unique tools, technological gadgets far ahead of the time. This one looked like an ordinary crossbow, only there was a long metal cylinder that hung beneath it. With a pull of the trigger, he let loose with a hail of bolts, firing first at the armor Locke was attacking, and then shifting to the other Magitek. One lucky shot hit the pilot in the head, ending his threat.

"Edgar!" screamed Terra.

The king spun around just as the second soldier unleashed a blast of ice cold power, knocking him back twenty feet.

Edgar hopped back to his feet, grimacing with the pain, but alive after a blast that would have killed a lesser man. But Terra was in no mood to see his fortune. Her temper boiled over and she flung her hand forward, pushing the fiery rage down through her arm and out her hand.

Flames leapt from the palm of her hand through the air, engulfing the soldier in a dull roar. The pilot's screams were quickly overwhelmed when the armor exploded, sending fragments of metal in all directions. Locke and Edgar stopped in their tracks and could only gape in astonishment as the fires rolled back into Terra's hand. A light wisp of smoke and the charred remains of the soldier were the only evidence anything had happened.

Locke couldn't get anything sensible to go through his head, much less come out his mouth. He looked over to Edgar, who looked like Locke felt.

"Ed?" he asked cautiously, "You all right over there? You looked positively spooked. You going to be okay?"

The king of Figaro turned to look at his friend as though Locke had just grown a second head. "Locke, did you bloody well see what I just saw!"

"Yeah," breathed Locke, "guess we don't need to worry about Terra being able to take care of herself. She seems loaded for bear against anything."

"Burn me but she's amazing!" cried Edgar, not noticing Terra's frown, "That was magic, Locke! Real magic! Not simple parlor tricks and illusion, Ancient-sworn, War of the Magi type _magic_!"

Locke's jaw dropped even further as it finally sunk into his brain. "Magic! Oh bloody Ancients!"

Terra frowned and swallowed nervously. She hadn't meant to do it. It had just seemed natural to pour her anger out of her. The gout of flame part wasn't what she'd consider natural, or normal, but maybe it was for her. She had thought maybe, just maybe, Locke and Edgar would understand.

But as the two men approached her, Terra thought they might have looked angry, but maybe it was more fear in their eyes as they looked at her.

"Terra," said Edgar in a much calmer voice, "that was just… amazing. Where on earth did you learn to do something like that? Why haven't you told us you know magic?"

Terra's heart was in her throat, and she had trouble getting words out. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… I…"

Locke came up to her, resting a hand on her arm, gently shushing her. "Shhh. It's all right, Terra. We're not angry or anything. Look, okay some it's my fault, I probably shouldn't make such a big deal about all of this."

Edgar nodded, this time sorrow and regret filled his eyes, not fear. "Me either. It's just, well, _I've_ certainly never actually seen magic before. And I can't think of anyone who has. How can you use it? Where did you learn it?"

"Edgar, shut up," whispered Locke, "the truth of the matter is that Terra is capable of wielding magic and we can't. That is the only difference between us, and fact is, we need her help."

_That's not the only difference thief_, thought Edgar, _Green hair, can use magic, and she seemed to have some kind of reaction to an Esper! There's a lot more differences than you're willing to admit, or maybe to see. But you are right on one thing, we do need her help._

"Thank you, Locke," breathed Terra, giving him a grateful smile, then turned to Edgar, "And you too, Edgar. I never would have been safe if not for you."

Edgar grumbled quietly about missing some spectacular feast with her, but he silenced his doubts and gave her one of his most dashing smiles, then swung back up on his chocobo.

"We should get out of here as soon as we can," he said as the others mounted, "We want to be as far away as we can from Kefka before that maniac decides to throw another platoon at us."

He wheeled around and led the three of them east, towards one end of the Sabil Mountains. Desert quickly gave way to grasslands, and then into grassy plains and gently rolling hills. Terra could see the beginning of a grand forest on the southern horizon. They pushed their chocobos hard, and by the time the sun was fully above the few trees around them, they were approaching the mountains.

"This is great!" cried Locke happily, as he realized that a journey that would have taken a few days on foot had been traversed in a handful of hours. Chocobos really were amazing creatures.

"That man, Kefka," said Terra, startling the other two, "is he as big a villain as you said he is? Why would he be after me? I don't understand any of this, what's so important about me? Guys, I'm scared."

Locke and Edgar shared a look and a slight nod. They brought themselves up on either side of her.

"Terra," said Edgar slowly, "there's someone we want you to meet. He's our mentor, and our leader.

At her confused stare, Locke decided to help her remember. "We're members of the Returners, remember? We're fighting against Gestahl and his ambition to conquer the world for himself."

"Our leader and mentor, Banon, is certainly eager to meet you," continued Edgar, "He's a good man, and knows more about the world than most three men combined. The Empire's control of magic is what has given them the edge so far in all of their conflicts, so we know that magic has to be the key to winning this war. You've just shown us that you have magical powers, and according to what Arvis told Locke about you, that Esper back in Narshe seemed to have some kind of reaction to you, or you to it. Is there anything that you can remember about the Esper, any kind of connection that you might have overlooked before?"

"I have no idea," she replied quietly, "I don't remember meeting the Esper. The very first thing I remember is waking up in Arvis' house. Everything before that is a blank, but these powers, they just seem natural. I can use them without thinking, or sometimes even trying."

Edgar was shaking his head in frustration. "But what you're saying is supposed to be impossible. Magic is said to have disappeared from the world, but Gestahl has figured it out somehow to be truth. But no human is born with powers like you seem to have and…"

His voice died off as he realized that Terra had suddenly pulled her chocobo up short. At a glance at Locke, the young rogue was glaring at him, forcing Edgar to review his words, and when he did, he grimaced. Slowly, he rode back to Terra, who's eyes were already glistening with tears, her heart frozen in shock and sudden loneliness.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I shouldn't have said that. My mouth has a tendency to run away on its own when I'm confronted with a puzzle. Bet you don't get that very often, a king almost begging to say he's sorry."

Terra sniffled, but gave Edgar a small grin. "No, I don't get that very often. But with my memory in shambles, and everyone trying to get to me, what am I supposed to do?"

Edgar sighed. "I'm sure the Empire is going to come after you. With your power, there's no way Gestahl will let you go without a fight, and Kefka will come after us for his vanity. If they somehow manage to get their hands on you again, then no one will stand a chance against them and freedom in this world is finished. Gestahl will be able to enforce his tyranny anywhere in the world and there will be no one to oppose him. Listen, Banon is one of the wisest men in the world. If you want to understand your powers, then we need to consult with him. He may know things that we don't."

"Please Terra," pleaded Locke, "give us the chance to prove that fighting with us is the right thing to do. If you don't want to, then we can't force you, but we have to let it be your decision. Will you give us the chance?"

Terra turned her emerald eyes between the two men, looking into Locke's clear brown eyes and Edgar's cool blue. She nodded gently, there wasn't much else she could do. She was a danger; to the Empire, to her friends, maybe even to herself. Maybe this Banon could help her understand things.

Edgar let out a breath he didn't remember holding. "Okay. There's a cave system to the south of us. It's a shortcut to South Figaro, instead of the passes through the mountains. We can rest in South Figaro, and then make our way back north into the Sabil Mountains and finally to Mount Kolts."

Another two hours of riding brought the three of them to the cave entrance. A guard tower of twenty Figaran soldiers manned this post. They left their chocobos with the soldiers, who offered to provide an escort, but Edgar ordered them merely to alert Chancellor Paulus that they had escaped safely and were on their way to South Figaro.

Their walk through the caves was quiet and undisturbed, depositing them several hours later on the eastern slopes of the mountains. Edgar argued they should stay on the mountain slopes as long as possible. Imperial spies would be looking for them in the easier-to-traverse valleys. This way they might escape detection all the way to the city. The first night they camped quietly, Edgar and then Locke taking the watch. It was a cold camp, they didn't want to light a fire and alert spies they were there.

The second day progressed much the same, with a few encounters with wilderness creatures that were easily dispatched. Edgar and Locke had a wonderful time regaling Terra with stories of the pranks they pulled on the castle staff and Edgar's parents when they were younger.

The two men had Terra laughing so hard that she could hardly see where she was going through the tears.

Suddenly, Locke's eyes narrowed. "Hey, does anyone else smell that?"

"I think you're beginning to hallucinate from exhaustion, thief," joked Edgar.

"That's treasure…"

"I smell something too," interrupted Terra. She couldn't tell what it was, but it smelled… _good!_

She and Locke led the way, following their noses, hardly acknowledging Edgar when he told them they were just a few days north of the city. Finally, having had to change directions three times because the winds tricked them, the three youths came upon a single home, here in the middle of the wooded slopes.

It was a quaint little affair, probably just a single story, but well-shingled, with shutters on the windows and a hand-carved door in the front.

"That's… odd," commented Edgar, "Who would live so far away from anywhere?"

"Lots of people," replied Locke, "a trapper, or a lonely hunter. Some crazy hermit, anybody."

Terra suddenly felt her stomach gurgle. They'd survived on field rations for the last few days. Not especially appetizing or filling, but nutritious and energy-boosting for their long marches. But the smells coming from the house were tantalizing.

"You think we could ask whoever lives here if we could rest here tonight?" she asked the others, "And maybe see if they have any food they could spare?"

Locke laughed. "Dinner, is _served_."

Edgar smiled at the two of them, then straightened his tunic, armor, and cape, then retied his hair in its tail. Even in rough traveling clothes stained with dirt, he looked very kingly. Terra could see why most women would swoon over him. Edgar grandly knocked on the door, and then waited. After several moments without a response, he tried again. After a second period of silence, he pushed open the door and went in. Terra and Locke followed him, then stopped short.

There were several oil lamps burning in wall sconces, giving the home a bright, healthy glow. To the left was a sitting room with a long sofa and a chair, with a fireplace and an animal skin rug. In the far corner but still close to the fireplace was a simple bed, with a few shelves of books, maps, and other knick-knacks. To the right was a lovely simple kitchen, a long table with beautifully carved chairs had a vase of flowers. Cabinets against the walls held china and silverware. In the back right corner of the house, the space was empty, except for some small logs and a wooden dummy, along with a strange contraption. It had three arms at different heights, hitting one caused it to spin around. None of the three of them could tell what it was for.

Finally, Terra succumbed to her curiosity and followed her nose to the smell of food. Opening the oven she could see four chickens slow-roasting. She took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of herbs and spices that she couldn't identify, but couldn't wait to try. She looked to Edgar.

"Do you think we could have some of it?" she asked.

Edgar sighed. "I don't see why not, we can always compensate him with gold when he returns."

They pulled three of the chickens out of the oven, along with a ceramic bowl of potatoes roasted with herbs. A quick trip to the garden outside gave them some fresh vegetables. As Edgar began to pull the dishes out of the hand-carved cabinets, he noticed something rather odd.

"Hmm, these were his favorite dishes," he mused.

As Terra helped serve the meal, she took a deep breath of the flowers sitting on the table. Instantly she felt stronger, revitalized, and yet at the same time a strange sense of calm settled over her.

The three of them had their first truly wonderful dinner in several days, continuing to talk and laugh, every moment expecting the owner of the house to walk in the door. However, when the meal had come and gone and the dishes cleaned and put away, the owner still hadn't arrived, and all three of the young adventurers were getting tired.

Locke put out most of the oil lamps, leaving enough burning that the owner wouldn't return to a dark house. Edgar gestured grandly for Terra to take the bed.

"I wouldn't dream of trying to steal such comforts away from you, my dear," he said, easily slipping back into the role of the flirtatious king. Then he turned to Locke and pulled out a coin. "Toss you for the couch? Heads me, tails you."

"You're on," replied the rogue.

The coin came up heads a moment later, and Edgar stretched out contentedly on the sofa, while Locke did his best to make himself comfortable on the chair.

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, but still no sign of the house's owner. After stretching out the crick in his neck, Locke led the three of them back outside, only to stop in surprise at the sight of an old man watering his chocobo at the house's well.

"Excuse me, sir?" called Edgar, "But, do you _know_ the owner of this place?"

The old man looked at them curiously for a moment. "Of course I do. Fine young man. He's a student of Master Duncan."

Locke and Edgar both sucked in their breath and looked around wide-eyed. Terra looked back and forth at them, wondering what was wrong.

"Guys, who's Master Duncan?" she asked timidly.

"Master Duncan Ironhand is… Master Duncan," said Locke, unable to come up with words. Edgar managed a little better.

"He's the greatest warrior and hero the world has ever seen," he said quietly, "the master of a tradition of martial arts that goes back more than a thousand years to the War of the Magi. He's a living legend. There's a saying that something might be 'fit for an Ironhand,' which means it's a challenge beyond the capability of almost everyone. Something virtually impossible. Or an accomplishment of such a feat. Sir, this man, do you know where we could find him?"

The old man shook his head and gave them a sympathetic frown. "No, sorry, can't say that I can. As near as I can tell, he disappeared into the mountains a few days ago. You see, rumors started coming through to us that Master Duncan had been slain. I've begun to hear some other rumors, myself. Tales that Duncan's other students are scattering across the world, and that even the old master's son Vargas has disappeared. I'm starting to get a very bad feeling about all of this."

The man shook his head again and turned away from the trio, mounting his chocobo. With a smile and a nod of his head, the old man trotted off.

It was Locke who finally broke the silence. "Well, we won't be getting anywhere standing around here all day. South Figaro is only two days away, a straight trip south. We can rest there for a few days, rest our legs before coming back north. Ed, you coming?"

"Be right with you," answered the king of Figaro. Too many things didn't make sense, the Figaran china in the cabinets, the flowers that his mother had loved to grow in the royal gardens sitting in the vase, the tea herbs kept in the jar that she had enjoyed. All of them things his brother had loved too. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Sabin," he whispered, saying a name that hadn't graced his lips in years, "were you here? Could I see you again, after so long?"

Neither the house nor the trees answered his questions, and so after a few more moments, Edgar turned to catch up with Locke and Terra.

* * *

South Figaro was said to be, after Vector, the largest and most cosmopolitan city in the entire world. Less than ten minutes into the city limits, Terra could wholeheartedly agree. The city was a bustling metropolis for industry and trade, and yet it seemed to hold onto a sense of quaint nostalgia. The homes and buildings were simply constructed, yet when Terra looked beneath the surface, she could see the prevalence of Edgar's technology everywhere in the city.

Pulley systems, waterwheels, mechanical clocks, and other strange and wonderful devices were everywhere, but discreet.

All of Narshe, including what Terra had seen of the mines, could have fit into a quarter of South Figaro. It was so remarkably clean and fresh, the city actually smelled like springtime, even with all of the people around at noon.

Edgar noticed her ever-widening smile. "Magnificent, isn't it? My family has ruled this city since it was founded almost 600 years ago. I try to come to the city every few months, meet the people, give them the opportunity to see their king, pick up a few attractive ladies while I'm here… but I've never had the opportunity to walk around without an entourage of guards."

"It's a sad thing when I know more about your city than you do," commented Locke.

"Well if you know the city so well, find us a place to eat where you won't be looking for _treasure_," Edgar fired back.

Locke either missed the jest or chose to ignore it. "No problem, I know this great little place by the canal."

He led the other two into the main market district for the city, forcing the three of them to continually dodge other merchants, sailors, caravan guards, and shopkeepers. Finally, he led them a café that was on the canal, just as promised. The sign above the door read _The Soaring Dragon_, which Locke claimed was one of the best spots in the city. They went upstairs and were lucky to find a table by the window, overlooking the canal and just beyond that, the ocean.

A few minutes later, the waitress came, and took orders for a rather large meal among the three of them. After a few moments, Locke got up.

"Forget something?" asked Edgar.

"Naa, just going for an ale," answered the rogue, who strolled up to the bar.

As Edgar watched his friend go up, he saw something that made his mouth go dry. "Oh, bloody Ancients," he whispered.

As Locke waited for his ale, he glanced to his right, and saw another man standing there, looking at him askance. The stranger was clothed all in black, with a cowl around his head and a black mask reinforced with metal strips across his mouth and nose. On the other man's side, a massive black and brown dog growled menacingly at Locke.

The young rogue nodded slowly to the stranger, suspicious of the looks the man was giving him. "Good afternoon to you, sir. Can I help you with something?" he asked, discreetly fingering the hilt of his knife.

The stranger's eyes flicked down unerringly to where Locke's knife was, then shot back to his face. The man sniffed, as though a silent laugh, then turned away.

Edgar raced from his seat and wrenched Locke away from the man as he saw the rogue's hand reach out to turn the stranger to face him. As soon as the two men were out of earshot of the black-clad stranger, Terra pulled them both back to the table, hoping to avoid making a scene. The man didn't seem to pay attention to any of it.

"Edgar, what was that all about?" she demanded.

The king was breathing hard. "I was keeping Locke away from his new friend before he ended up with his throat slashed open."

"What are you babbling about, Edgar?" asked Locke, "The least the guy could have done is give me a response. There wasn't a reason for him to be so rude about everything."

"Locke, shut up," advised Edgar, "Don't you recognize him? Doesn't he seem the least bit familiar to you? Tall, black mask, giant dog? Anything?"

At the shrug of his friend's shoulders, Edgar let out a sigh. "That's Shadow. You know that name? The assassin?"

Locke certainly knew _that_ name.

"Oh, bloody Ancients," he whispered.

"Who's Shadow?" asked Terra.

"He's the best," replied Edgar, "He's a mercenary, he'll work for anyone as long as they pay him the right shade of gold in the proper amount. He doesn't care about anyone's reasons or politics. You give him a target, he kills the person, and that's the last he'll worry about you, unless you either hire him again, or you become his next target. Shadow has no allegiances, no morals, and no honor. People say he'd be more than willing to slit his own mother's throat for a piece of gold."

Terra turned to look at Shadow with a new sense of fear and dread. Was he working for someone now? If so, could they be his targets.

"I guess we should just do our best to steer clear of him," commented Locke, "In all likelihood he doesn't know who we are, and its less likely that he's after us. From what I've heard he wouldn't blink to kill everyone here to get to us if we were his targets. Look, the owner here has an some nice rooms attached to this place. We'll stay here for a few days, and then head back into the mountains."

* * *

The trio stayed in South Figaro for another three days, resting weary legs and muscles. Terra lost count of how many warm baths she'd taken, enjoying the rest and the chance to forget the past few weeks.

After first seeing Shadow in the café, they never saw him again, and it seemed that no one in the city had seen him leave. Or see him arrive in the first place, for that matter.

They did spend some time browsing the shops, acquiring better weapons, and restocking their supplies of healing tonics and potions, as well as a few precious fenix downs.

Another two days after they left the city, the three adventurers found themselves back in the mountains. Locke suggested a path in the mountains for a day to see if there was anyone following them. Then they'd go back down into the valleys, where it would be another six or eight days to Mt. Kolts.

They were still a bit less than halfway up this current mountain. On one side of them at the moment was the rocky face of the mountain, and on the other was a sheer drop of several hundred feet.

Terra was keeping a rather paranoid eye open, worrying about Shadow, and whether or not he was actually tracking them. She turned to her left, peering up through the trees to one of the higher ledges, and thought she saw, maybe…

A black form vanished before her eyes. She heard a slight whisper of wind a moment later, then all was still.

"Guys, I think we're being followed," she said nervously, as they were winding down the path to the valley, "I just saw something in the trees, and I know it saw me."

Locke smiled confidently. "Don't worry about it, probably just an animal. You're just spooked because of Shadow back in the city. How would he have known this is the way we'd go?"

"But what if it _was_ Shadow!" she protested, "You said he was the best. Maybe he knows to go to Mt. Kolts! The best way to defeat an enemy is to know them better than they know themselves!"

She stopped abruptly. Where had _that_ come from? She didn't know that, did she? Confused and a little scared, Terra took off down the path, her dress nearly floating in the breeze.

"Hey Terra! Wait up!" cried Locke as he rushed to pursue her.

As the two men rounded the next bend, they were both suddenly flattened by a red and green shape. When their vision cleared, they saw that Terra had flown into them. No, not flown. Been _thrown._ By him.

The path had led them to an open ledge. Off to the left was the entrance back into the cave systems to go down to the valley. Ahead of them and to the right was a sheer drop of hundreds of feet into the valley mists. And he stood right in their way.

The three of them stared at the figure before them with a sense of horrified awe. He was a few inches shorter than Locke, but enormously broad. His dark hair was only partially tied back, the rest of it was loose and wild. He wore only a pair of sturdy boots and tattered white pants. His chest was the size of a beer barrel and gleamed with sweat in the afternoon sun.

He looked over the three of them and sneered. Compared to him, Locke and Edgar looked like puny weaklings.

"So three trespassers invade _my _territory," he growled, "Did Sabin bring you here!"

All three of them were silent. For Terra, that name sparked a memory from Figaro Castle. Edgar's younger brother. This man must be mistaking Edgar for Sabin. That had to be it.

"Sabin?" Edgar whispered to himself, looking around wildly, "Are you really here? So close to home?"

"Who _are_ you!" demanded Locke.

The man gave a deep, menacing laugh. "I am Vargas Ironhand, son of the Blitz Master Duncan Ironhand and rightful heir to the Blitz techniques by my birth!"

"Burn me, so Terra was right," said Locke, "there was someone following us. You!"

Vargas laughed again. It sent a shiver down Edgar's back. "Brilliant little man. Absolutely brilliant! What did it take for you to figure it out? Ah well, how unfortunate you are to have run into me. You are weak, and such pathetic fools. Submit to me!"

Edgar barked out a laugh. "You've got to be flaming kidding me! We won't kneel to you. We just want to be on our way."

"That's too bad, for you will submit," said Vargas, his voice full of certainty, "or you will DIE!"

The massive warrior gave a strange roaring cry and only a moment later two massive Ipooh mountain bears lumbered out of the trees and charged the trio.

Edgar whipped out one of his tools, powering up the drill. It gave off a high-pitched whine as the bear came closer, then he plunged it into the creature's belly as it rose on its hind legs. But the bear roared and backhanded Edgar, sending him flying. Locke wove himself inside and slashed the back of one its hind legs, causing the bear to topple backwards.

Terra saw the second bear charging Locke from behind. For the first time, she consciously called upon the power within her and unleashed the flames from her hand. The Ipooh bear's fur instantly caught flame and with a howl the creature vanished away from the ledge.

Vargas erupted into menacing laughter as Locke helped Edgar to his feet, the latter spitting a bit of blood from his mouth.

"Clever," he complimented, "I didn't think you'd be able to overcome my pets quite so easily. No matter, this gives me the opportunity to finish you off on my own."

Vargas leapt forward, heading straight for Terra. Before she could do anything, he exploded into movement faster than she could follow. She could feel blows landing all over her body so fast that no one spot hurt. It was as if her whole body simply erupted in pain. Terra fell to her knees with a groan, but then Vargas viciously kneed her in the chin, sending her sprawling onto her back.

Locke and Edgar rushed forward, the latter drawing his sword. They attacked Vargas together, but the massive man was much faster than his bulk should have allowed. He parried, ducked, and wove himself around their strikes, landing solid punches and kicks.

Edgar already sported a black eye and Locke was surprised he hadn't felt teeth knocked loose yet.

Vargas leapt into the air, delivering a powerful double kick that sent the two men flying and landing weakly next to Terra. Painfully, Edgar reached for his sword, but even though it was only inches away, it felt like miles.

Vargas was shaking his head mockingly. "So pathetic. Burn me but I could have killed you all in a heartbeat. You are no challenge. Where is the one man who can challenge me!" he yelled, "Where are you!"

Terra struggled to her knees, still unable to understand why this man was attacking them with such ferocity.

"And you, my dear," said Vargas with a sneer, "perhaps you I will leave alive. Yes, you would serve my desires well. But first I will kill your friends."

He began to cackle madly.

"VARGAS! Give it up!"

Terra looked around weakly. That hadn't sounded like a man's voice at all. It had been more like… the roar of an angry beast.

A shadow passed by, and she looked up. A graceful form soared through the air, easily flipping forward until the man landed, looking like the polar opposite of Vargas.

This newcomer was a giant, at least several inches taller than Edgar, who was over six feet tall himself. He was powerfully muscled, but not grossly bulky. Sleeker. More deadly in a way. A tiger rather than a bear. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his golden blond hair was tied back in a short ponytail. He wore sturdy boots, plain beige pants, and a sleeveless blue shirt.

Vargas laughed again. "Ah, Sabin, so finally you come to join me in our dance. What took you so long? Grief, loss, _guilt_?"

"How could you do it Vargas?" asked Sabin, his voice filled with pain, "How could you betray your father like that? You handed him over to Kefka and the Empire! Why!"

"He was an old fool!" roared Vargas, "I was his son! The latest of the Ironhands. For over one thousand years my family has passed down the secrets of the Blitz! Yet my father betrayed me! He was going to teach _you_ the secrets of the Blitz! He wanted to train _you_ to be his heir! You are not an Ironhand!"

"Master Duncan wanted you to be his successor, Vargas, not me," insisted Sabin, "He always wanted the Blitz to remain a part of the Ironhand family. He admired your spirit, your ambition, your search for perfection. He wanted both of us to pass down the secrets."

"Silence! I'll hear no more of your lies!" cried Vargas, "My father was a cowardly fool. A fool to choose you, and a coward to shun the power at his fingertips. But I have found power beyond what he could dream of. Now you will taste my superior techniques."

Sabin slid into a fighting stance, ignoring the three behind him. He couldn't worry about them now. Who knew what Vargas could do?

Winds suddenly began to build up, whipping into Sabin's face. He brought his hands up to keep the wind from stinging his eyes as gale force winds whipped Vargas' hair about and slammed into the others.

Terra, still weak on her knees, couldn't resist any longer and felt the winds blew her backwards until she slammed into the cliff wall and was pinned there. A few moments later, she could tell that Edgar and then Locke joined her pressed up into the rocks. Peering through the winds, she could see the blond man, Sabin, still holding his footing as the winds were at their most intense. Suddenly the gale died down to nothing and she slumped to the ground.

Sabin brought his arms down and back into a fighting stance. Vargas snickered at him.

"Very good, Sabin," he jeered, "I see that my father taught you well. You might be a worthy challenge after all."

Sabin sighed. "I've tried to put this off all these years, Vargas. I never wanted to fight you. But we can't avoid this any longer."

"Indeed," agreed Vargas, "today, we will find out who deserves the title of Blitz Master. It was fate, Sabin. Fate that brought you and my father together so many years ago, fate that made us train together. Just as today, fate will send you to your _doom_!"

Vargas leapt forward with a wide kick, but Sabin pushed it on its course while still out of range, then lunged forward, planting his knee in Vargas' ribs. The shorter man cried out then elbowed Sabin in the back of the head while they were still inches apart. As they separated, Sabin somehow reversed his momentum, spinning in the opposite direction and landing a roundhouse kick against the back of Vargas' head.

With a cry of rage, Vargas charged back into range with his Hurricane Fist technique, a flurry of attacks so fast that it couldn't be defended against. Twenty, thirty blows landed all over Sabin's body in the span of a few seconds, the attacks too fast for him to see, let alone block. Vargas began to back off after that attack, but Sabin spun and kicked him across the face, feeling something break under his foot.

Both men backed off, breathing deeply and spitting blood from their mouths. One of Vargas' teeth came out as well.

"Not bad, Sabin," commented Vargas, "but now you will bear witness to my most dreaded technique."

Vargas seemed to draw in on himself, then he threw his hand forward. A shadowy cloud flew from his hand and shot right into Sabin's heart. The warrior was instantly gasping for breath and fell to his knees.

"The dark techniques," gasped Sabin, "How… how did you learn them? Duncan… never demonstrated them! How, Vargas? How could you… corrupt his teachings? How can you justify… this?"

"I don't have to justify it," sneered his rival, "Power should go to those who have the will to use it. Such a pity that you have to die to learn that lesson, we've already learned it."

Sabin was barely able to concentrate on the fact that Vargas had said _we_, but he'd already turned his attentions to the others. "And you, my sweet witch, will not have much longer to suffer. Sabin will be dead momentarily, and then you will be next, for I've decided I could never have one as pathetic as you."

Sabin closed his eyes and concentrated. _I'm sorry, Master. I didn't want to do this, but I must!_

He delved down into the depths of his spirit, searching for the emptiness of the void that separated him from the power of all life. He summoned that power into himself; the power of nature, of life, of the world itself. The icy grip crushing his heart was shattered by the warmth of that power, and Sabin breathed deeply.

Sabin opened his eyes, and to him, there was a point just below Vargas' throat, glowing with power. His life source, the point from where his life sprang. With a roar of his own rage, he leapt forward.

Vargas' face still hadn't managed to switch to shock before Sabin was pummeling him with an unending series of blows, each strike landing in the same spot. Five, ten, twenty blows to Vargas' weakest point, each one flowing so smoothly and naturally that it was nearly impossible to separate them.

When Sabin finally backed off, Vargas was finding it nearly impossible to breathe.

"That… that's not possible," he gasped, "The Doom Fist… you should be dead! How? He… already taught you the secrets of the lifestream?"

Sabin shook his head sadly. "If only you hadn't been in such a rush for power. But you were."

Once again Sabin leapt forward, spun and delivered a ferocious kick that slammed into Vargas' chest, sending the dark warrior hurtling over the ledge.

"SABIIIIIIIIIN!"

Vargas' final cry echoed off the mountains as he disappeared into the mists. But Sabin did not feel victorious. _Why couldn't we have just been brothers?_ He wished they could have been.

Terra had watched the battle with a sense of awe. Both of the men had been powerful warriors, stronger than anything she could have imagined. Suddenly the blond man turned back to them and came over, pulling out a handful of small vials.

"Here," he said, "healing tonics. It's not much, but it should get the three of you back on your feet."

As Edgar rose, he and the warrior called Sabin looked into each other's eyes. As she looked between the two of them, Terra could definitely see the resemblance. Both were very handsome men, with high aristocratic cheekbones, strong jaws and firm chins. Edgar had eyes of a cool, afternoon sky's blue, while Sabin's were deeper, the clear blue of deep oceans.

"Sabin?" breathed Edgar uncertainly.

"Big brother," replied Sabin with a nod.

Without another word, the two men wrapped each other in a firm embrace, but looking into their faces, Terra could still see some apprehension.

Locke didn't notice that, however. "So, finally after ten long years apart, the brothers of Figaro are finally reunited."

Terra smiled in the joy of the moment, then something she remembered popped into her head. A portrait, with Sabin as the smaller one…

"Wait a minute, you mean _he's_ the younger brother!" she exclaimed, looking at Sabin, who towered over them all. Terra barely came up to his chest, _maybe_ to his neck. "I thought that he was some bodybuilder who'd strayed from his gym!"

"Bodybuilder?" repeated Sabin, "_Bodybuilder?_ You confuse a master of the Ironhand style, a tradition over a thousand years old, with a common bodybuilder?" After a moment's pause he erupted into laughter.

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment!" he told her with a smile, making Terra blush, then turned back to Edgar, "Anyway brother, it's been a long time. What are you doing here?"

"We're on our way to Mt. Kolts," he answered.

"Mmm. Heading to the Returner's hideout, I'd wager."

"You know about the Returners?" said Locke, astonished.

Sabin nodded. "Of course I do. I've lived in these mountains for the last ten years. I've run into some of those guys on occasion. I'll leave them extra food in my traps, they leave me something they've picked up, we avoid each other aside from that. Banon once tried to recruit me, but I turned him down. I decided that this wasn't my battle, that the world should sort itself out. So I've watched events unfolding from afar, hoping and praying that the world might regain some sanity. But it hasn't. At this rate, the Empire will conquer Figaro and reduce it to a puppet state."

"It's our time to strike back, Sabin!" replied Edgar firmly, "The Empire _will_ pay for its crimes against the world, and against us."

"And how do you intend to do that, brother?" asked Sabin delicately, "The Returners are heavily outnumbered, and even if you had someone with you who could wield magic, that would be one person against a thousand suits of Magitek armor. The odds are overwhelmingly against you. Fighting the Empire… it's suicide."

Edgar's face contorted into one of pure rage. "At least we'll be able to say that we tried to save the world. We'll have accomplished that much, instead of hiding in the mountains."

Sabin's face remained icy calm for several moments, and Terra was certain that he'd been offended and was angry. Then Sabin grinned widely and let out a hearty laugh.

"Well then, do you think a bear like me could be of some help in your fight?" he asked.

Astonishment was a mild understatement for Edgar. "You'd… you'd join us? What about your arguments? What about… burn you, Sabin! Do you always have to play devil's advocate? Why do you always have to argue the opposite position just to argue it!"

"Hey, blame Dad, you know I got that from him," Sabin said through his laughter. That laugh was infectious, for soon even Terra and Locke were grinning at Edgar, who was still fuming. "Besides, brother, Duncan always envisioned a world of peace and justice. I think he would rest easier if he knew that I had taken up the struggle for his dreams."

"Then let's go!" cried Locke enthusiastically.

"Hold on a minute, I left my gear over by the cave," replied Sabin, and he ran over to the cave entrance, returning with a fully loaded backpack filled with survival equipment, "Follow me. I'll take you through the mountains. It'll go quicker than if you go back into the valleys, maybe four or five days instead of eight."

The three of them followed, and Sabin turned to them as they came up alongside. "So brother, who are these two with you?"

"I'm Locke Cole," replied Locke, "Returner agent and world-renowned treasure hunter!"

"Surely you remember, him, don't you?" said Edgar.

Sabin paused momentarily, roughly spun Locke around, and pulled something out of his pockets and handed them over to Edgar. It was some silver and gold inlaid silverware stamped with the Figaro royal seal.

"Locke!" roared Edgar.

The young rogue smiled guiltily. "I liked how they looked?"

"Edgar, didn't you ever figure out why Mom and Dad were always commissioning new silverware from the smiths?" asked Sabin through his laughter, then he turned to Terra, his blue eyes sparkling, "And who are you, my lady? Surely you can't be one of Edgar's girlfriends. You're far too beautiful and intelligent to make that kind of mistake."

"This is Terra," replied Locke excitedly, "and she can use magic!"

Terra blushed and lowered her head, waiting for the outcry, waiting to be embarrassed. _Oh Locke, why did you have to go and say that?_ she wondered.

But Sabin didn't seem at all fazed. "Yeah, I saw her set the Ipooh on fire. It was an impressive display of magic."

Terra shook her head in shock. That's it!

"Hold on! That's it! An impressive display?" she asked, bewildered, "Don't you realize how strange magic is?"

He glanced at her and smiled. "Of course I do. But it's no rarer than the Blitz. But just because you are capable of using magic doesn't make you any different than who you are. Why should I treat you any differently? You were expecting shock, disbelief, and a little bit of fear, right? What's the difference between one form of power and another? I utilize a power that would evoke the same reaction in others, so what right do I have to react that way to another kind of power?"

Terra was astonished. For the first time, she thought she'd found someone she could really talk to. She was sure that underneath Locke and Edgar's calm demeanor, they still found magic frightening and uncomfortable. But Sabin… Terra swallowed as she looked at him again. The afternoon sun highlighted his tanned, rugged face and made his blue eyes sparkle. He really was just as heart-meltingly handsome as Edgar, but it was a rugged outdoorsman look instead of the noble aristocrat look.

Nor had Sabin taken insult to her poor bodybuilder comment. He'd _laughed_! How many people could genuinely laugh at an insult? She suddenly realized he was looking at her again, and Terra felt color rise in her cheeks.

"So?" he said grinning, "You still haven't told me. Are you one of Edgar's girlfriends or not?"

"No way!" she cried.

Edgar stopped in his tracks with an indignant and hurt look on his face. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Sabin's laughter carried back to him. "Hurry up, big brother or you'll be left behind. And trust me, you don't want to get lost in these mountains."

With a growl, Edgar hustled to catch up.

* * *

Sabin led them along for the next several hours. Some of the paths were a little treacherous, making the others nervous, but Sabin moved with effortless grace and sure-footedness. He was always there with a ready hand or a quick save.

Dusk was beginning to fall, and Sabin finally brought them to a halt outside a cave. He quickly ducked inside and was back a few moments later.

"We'll camp here for tonight," he said firmly, "the paths ahead are just as they were today, and will be too dangerous for the three of you in the dark. I'll be back later."

"Where you going?" asked Terra.

Sabin smiled. "Just going a little higher to watch the sunset."

He climbed higher with incredible ease, out of sight within seconds. Locke and Edgar started a fire to cook a few of the hairy, one-eyed creatures Sabin had caught. He called it a bleary, and insisted that skinned and cooked over an open fire they were quite good. They also helped one fall asleep quickly, something in the meat made people drowsy.

Terra took another look back up the way Sabin had gone, and began to climb.

"Terra, what are you doing?" asked Locke.

"I want to follow him," she answered, "It's been a while since I've watched a sunset, really watched one, and I have some questions to ask him."

Locke nodded and Terra did as best she could to scamper up the rock face. After a few minutes she spotted Sabin on a small ledge another thirty feet higher, glancing at her every few seconds. Terra struggled on the last distance, pushing past the loose rocks until she finally joined Sabin. She sat down, panting a little from the exertion. Without a word, Sabin passed over his waterskin.

"That was impressive," he complimented, "I was almost certain you were going to need help. You've got fire in you, that's for sure."

"Thanks," she replied, taking a refreshing sip of water.

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching as the red-gold sun began its fall to the horizon.

"Sabin," began Terra, "there seemed to be a lot of tension between you and Edgar earlier, in spite of all your laughter."

He nodded. "I last saw Edgar a little over ten years ago. We parted with, well, rather harsh words for each other. Some of the wounds we opened still hurt, even after all these years with Master Duncan."

"I keep hearing about him," she replied, "I'm sorry. I would like to have met him. What was he like?"

"Duncan… was… a legend," Sabin said, almost reverently, "He was the greatest warrior of his day, traveling across the world and fighting for the innocent and those who couldn't fight for themselves. His reputation spread through the world ahead of him. Many who fought him would underestimate him, thinking that the stories about him were just crazy rumors. But Duncan was every bit as good as people said he was.

"Now if you ask what kind of person he was… Duncan was a strict taskmaster. When we were training, he expected, no he demanded perfection. Or at least a guarantee that we would work towards it. Everyone was equal in his eyes, there was no favoritism. Not for me, not for Vargas, not for any of the others."

"So there was more than just you and Vargas?" asked Terra.

Sabin frowned and shrugged. "In a way. The Ironhand style of fighting he gladly taught to those he thought was worthy of it. But that's just a fighting technique, anyone can learn how to fight. What he taught me was to go beyond my own body, to join my spirit with the lifestream, the power of nature, life, the world itself. That power is taught to only one student in a generation."

"Is that what you and Vargas were calling the Blitz?"

"Yeah. It was how I broke the Doom Fist that Vargas inflicted on me. Master Duncan never taught him the Blitzes. He felt that his son was unworthy to know the techniques. But somehow Vargas awakened the dark techniques of the Ironhand within himself. That's why he was so strong. I still wish I'd found out how he gained those powers."

Sabin was quiet for several minutes, then Terra rested a hand on his rock-hard arm. "You miss Duncan terribly, don't you?"

He sniffed and took a deep breath. "When I ran away from Figaro, Duncan found me in the wilderness; my clothing was shredded and I was half-starved. He took me in and treated me like I was his own son. He became a second father to me. Master Duncan taught me everything in my life that's worth knowing. He taught me to fight against cruelty and injustice. He taught me to treasure the dream of a world of peace and equality. A world where the violence of our skills would no longer be needed. That was his dream. And now I'm left to carry his vision. It is a dream I will fight for. It is a dream I will gladly die for."

He turned to look at Terra. "You have to make stand sometimes and fight for what you believe. It wasn't my time before. But now, this is a battle that above all must be won. I will fight to my greatest ability for peace and justice. That's something _worth_ fighting for."

"Wow," she said, "You know, just from looking at you, I couldn't see you as anything more than a dumb brute who lived only to punch things. I'm glad you're more than that. It sounds weird, but wisdom seems to suit you, at least better than on Edgar, anyway."

Sabin gave her a wide smile. "There has to be a reason for the fighting. You have to fight for something. Otherwise, all the battles of the world are just… meaningless. All my… wisdom, that's Master Duncan's teachings. He was a very wise man. Edgar's just a wiseguy, two totally different things."

Terra laughed and Sabin grinned at the horizon.

"I'm glad you're on our side, Sabin," she told him.

Sabin turned those sparkling blue eyes on her. "Me too. Now we better head back down. Who knows what disaster Locke and Edgar are going to make of dinner. Let me go first and help you down, the rocks can be a little trickier going down than they are going up."

Terra held on to Sabin's hand as he led her back down the mountainside. He'd been right, it was a bit more treacherous going down. She kept slipping and nearly falling onto her backside, but Sabin's strong hands kept her upright as he kept his footing as surely as a mountain goat.

Several minutes later, she could see Edgar watching them come back down as they finally made it back onto the path. Terra realized after a few moments that she was still tightly grasping Sabin's hand, so she quickly let go, blushing a little.

"Burn you, Sabin," he muttered, "I'm the king, I'm supposed to be the one who has the way with women. Not you, you mountain yokel. I'm never going to live this down. I think it was because I didn't have a chance to wine and dine you, Terra, but don't worry, I will correct that minor error as soon as we return to Figaro."

Terra laughed and punched Edgar playfully in the arm as she sat down between him and Locke, who was trying mightily to keep a grin off his face.

Sabin gave another of his hearty laughs. "Big brother, it's good to see that some things at least stay the same," he said, then he paused, looking around and sniffing the air, "You guys should make your camp within the cave, it's going to rain tonight."

"Martial arts master and now fortune-teller?" scoffed Locke, "Thanks but no thanks, I don't smell anything."

"Suit yourself, thief," replied Sabin, ignoring Locke's sputters, "You can all sleep easily tonight. I'll keep watch over you."

With a smile that encompassed all three of them, Sabin walked right into the treeline and vanished in moments.

Edgar turned back to their fire shaking his head. "I think these mountains sucked out a bit of his sanity over all those years."

"How can you say that?" asked Terra indignantly, "He's a good man, he's helping us for no other reason other than he thinks it's the right thing to do. That's nobility."

Locke shrugged. "Terra, I hate to say this, but I'm not so sure about Sabin. Edgar, I know he's your brother, but something just sends chills down my spine. Maybe it's just the fact that he can break me in half without thinking, or maybe it's something more. I don't trust him yet."

"I can't believe you two," protested Terra, "Would a bad person like Kefka take a few minutes just to enjoy a _sunset?_ From all you've told me of Master Duncan, I don't think it would be possible for Sabin to be evil."

"Well, you wouldn't think Duncan's own son could be evil," countered Locke, "and we know what happened with Vargas."

Terra walked away from the fire and set up her bedroll inside the cave, deciding that with Sabin on the lookout in his home region they were perfectly safe, so she might as well get as much extra sleep as she could. An hour later, Edgar joined her inside the cave, while Locke decided on the open stars. All three of them were asleep before it was fully dark.

* * *

Around midnight the heavens chose to open up and drop sheets of rain into the Sabil Mountains. Locke woke up drenched, then grumblingly relocated to inside the cave, where he fell back into an uncomfortable sleep in soaking wet clothes. Watching from a nearby tree branch, Sabin chuckled before moving on.

* * *

Terra was the first one awake the next morning, and walked out of the cave and into bright morning sunlight. She was surprised to see Sabin already sitting in front of a small fire, mixing something in a bowl.

"Good morning, Sabin," she said cheerfully.

He smiled and bowed his head. "And a beautiful morning has become even more so, Terra. How would you like your eggs cooked?"

Astonished, Terra looked closer and saw three extremely large eggs sitting on a leaf next to him. He noticed her gaze and smiled.

"Chickenlip eggs," he told her, "I raided a nest early this morning, and I have the bird that was there already wrapped up so I can cook it for dinner tonight."

Terra grinned. She had no idea Sabin knew how to cook, but realized she should have, remembering those delicious herb-roasted chickens back at his home that she, Locke, and Edgar had pilfered.

"Scrambled, if you don't mind," she answered.

"Here, catch."

Terra instinctively caught what Sabin had thrown her. It was a very small bar of… soap? She looked at him in shock.

"Head down the path about thirty or forty paces, there'll be a break in the bushes to your left. Follow that new path straight for, maybe an eighth of a mile, you'll come to a stream. It's fairly warm from last night's rain, so you should have no problem bathing. And don't worry about anyone spying on you. There's no one but us within a good six hour march, and I promise I'll keep an overly-flirtatious king away from you."

Terra laughed out loud and Sabin grinned. "Thanks Sabin. You really know how to make a girl feel clean and attractive."

She wandered down the path and found exactly what Sabin had described. Very quickly she came upon the stream, and was delighted to find a little side pool, so that she wasn't deluged by running water the whole time. Terra quickly slipped out of her clothes and got into the water.

_Burn you, Sabin, it's freezing!_

But already in the water, Terra wasn't about to get out. The tiny bar of soap seemed just enough as she was able to lather up, stepping most of the way out of the water before rinsing off. She stepped back into her clothes, feeling amazingly refreshed, then returned to camp.

As she arrived, Locke and Edgar were just emerging from the cave, wiping sleep from their eyes.

"Good… good morning, Terra," yawned Edgar, "hey shrimp."

"Crabby in the morning, aren't you big brother?" retorted Sabin.

"Ancients Sabin, don't you ever sleep?"

The martial artist shrugged. "When I need to. I've trained myself to function on a minimal amount of sleep. Two or three hours a night is plenty for me, but I can go for up to a month on an hour of meditation each night, or go a full week without my eyes closing at all. Now let's eat up, we have a difficult climb ahead of us today."

They ate breakfast in a companionable silence, then made ready for travel. Sabin once again led them through the mountains. Some of the paths were remarkably easy, while some of them were treacherous enough to make Sabin tie them all together so that if one fell the others could remain steady. Not that Sabin needed it, he held his footing like a mountain goat. At one point all three of them fell, and he held onto the rocks with his bare hands.

Three more days passed in this manner, until Sabin led them on a rather easy path which he claimed led to a tunnel that could knock another day off the trip to Mt. Kolts. But when they got there, the tunnel entrance was blocked by a large boulder.

"Well, that's the end of that," commented Locke.

"I could try going through it with my drill," suggested Edgar.

Terra shook her head. "No, it's too small, it would take longer to try and go through it than it would to go around, right Sabin?"

But the large man seemed to be ignoring them all, standing before the boulder. Suddenly, Terra could have sworn that Sabin had been surrounded in a momentary halo of gold and white light. Sabin slid forward and grabbed a hold of the boulder.

To their utter astonishment and disbelief, the massive stone slowly rose into the air as Sabin lifted the boulder over his head and then threw it down the side of the mountain.

He looked at the three of them, breathing heavily. "The Blitzes are very powerful," he said, "but nothing said they could only ever be used for combat. The Suplex Blitz technique grants phenomenal strength, allowing me to lift immensely heavy burdens, leap incredible heights and fall even greater distances. Never underestimate the power of nature."

With a smile, he lit one of his small torches and led them into the dark tunnel. When they emerged several hours later, Sabin pointed to a nearby mountain that they would arrive at the next morning. Mt. Kolts.


	7. Chapter 5: The Returners

Thanks to everyone who's been waiting patiently for this next chapter. Hope it continues to interest you and everyone offers me their reviews. Again, thank you and enjoy.

* * *

The next morning, Sabin allowed Locke to take the lead as they approached their destination of Mt. Kolts, the secret hideout for the Returners. Terra kept her eyes roaming the surrounding area, trying to spot the scouts.

"Forty feet to the left," whispered Sabin. She was startled, but Terra swept her eyes in that direction, and just barely caught a glimpse of the camouflaged figure.

"Greetings, you look lost," said a cheery voice, but Terra couldn't find the speaker, "Where are the lot of you from?"

"Vector," replied Locke quickly, "Finest city in the world, if you like yellow skies."

"Well, it could be worse. Go on ahead."

As the four of them trudged up the mountainside, Terra moved up next to Locke.

"What was that password all about?" she asked, "Don't they know you?"

The rogue gave her a wide grin. "Yeah, they know me for certain. But that password is a safety measure. Had you guys been Imperial agents forcing me to show you the way to the base, a similar password would have alerted them to that fact, and the whole mountain would have been evacuated before we got halfway there."

"But how would you find each other again?" she wanted to know.

"Everyone is assigned to a specific rendezvous point," explained Locke, "and once there the orders are to lay low until you receive orders to regroup. I know that Banon has another backup hideout, but he's rather loathe to give this one up."

Three hours later, they could see the cave entrance to the hideout. Waiting for them was a man about Locke's age, with dirty blond hair, dressed in sewn leather armor with tinted goggles resting on his forehead.

"Locke!" greeted the young man.

"Dace, good to see you," replied the young rogue, "check out this ragtag group I brought along with me."

The young man, Dace, gaped as he saw Edgar. "King Edgar! Burn you Locke, why didn't you tell me you had a king with you? My apologies, your majesty. This way, please."

Sabin and Edgar shared a quiet chuckle as they followed Dace into the cave. Locke and Dace chatted like two old friends as they waved or nodded to other men throughout the place. Terra quickly realized this wasn't just a cave, but a complex system of caverns that probably ran through the entire mountain. Crates of equipment from weapons and armor to food and bandages lined most of the walls, as if the Returners had been stocking up on supplies for years. The halls and rooms were brightly lit with plenty of oil lamps, making the whole complex seem full of warmth.

Finally Dace led them to one of the rooms. Edgar gestured grandly to Terra. "Ladies first."

Shaking her head, Terra walked in and took a long look at the man sitting at the desk. He was definitely an older gentleman, his full white hair and beard still had a few wisps of its original dark brown in it, and he wore comfortable robes. His face was lined with age and worry, but his eyes shone with fierce determination. The man rose to his feet as they came in.

"Locke my boy, it's good to see that you're safe again," he said, resting a hand on the rogue's shoulder, "King Edgar, it's an honor to finally meet you. Your aid has been indispensable to our survival. I knew your parents very well. I never had the chance to give you my condolences. I miss them."

He gave a slight nod of his head to Sabin, who returned the silent greeting as Edgar came up next to Terra.

"Banon, we brought the girl with us," he said enthusiastically, "This is Terra. Terra, allow me to introduce Banon Teshar, the leader of the Returners."

The old man looked at her carefully, as though appraising her. "So, this is the young lady we've been hearing so much about? The girl who can talk to Espers?"

"What, what about the Espers?" asked Terra trembling.

"Banon," said Edgar forcefully, pulling something out of his bag, "it seems as though the Empire had complete control over her. Look, this was brought from Narshe by Locke. It's a Slave Crown. Whatever they had Terra doing, she was nothing but a puppet to them."

"A puppet?" echoed Banon as he took the Slave Crown, "A puppet who was able to kill more than fifty rebellious Magitek armor pilots in only a few minutes?"

Terra gasped. Fifty soldiers in those armor suits? It wasn't possible. She couldn't possibly do anything like that, could she?

"That's a lie," she whispered, "It's a lie. It _has_ to be."

Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. She wanted to run away, she wanted to hide in some dark corner where no one would ever find her. A powerful hand gently fell onto her shoulder from behind, and Terra's hands came up over her tear-filled eyes as she turned into Sabin's chest to cry.

"Terra," said Locke sympathetically, "don't cry. We know who you are, we know you were controlled and ordered to do those things."

"Banon, you have to understand," said Edgar forcefully, "she's suffering from complete amnesia. She doesn't remember _anything_ before waking up in Arvis' home in Narshe! Let us…"

"Stop," said Banon quietly, but there was force behind it, a demand for obedience, "You did well in bringing her here."

He walked closer to Sabin and Terra, who had pulled her hands away from her red eyes. She looked at Banon, who seemed much more caring and compassionate than just a few moments ago.

"Let me tell you a little story, my dear," he said gently, "Once, a very long time ago, in the days of the Ancients, the people were pure and innocent. They lived their lives free of strife and conflict. It was an era of peace. Yet among them was placed the seeds of doubt. For in their possession was a box that they knew must never be opened. But one of them wondered what was so important about the box that he went and opened it anyway. Thus the evils of the world were released to inflict chaos upon the common people. The evils of envy, greed, pride, violence, control… All that was left in the box after it was closed was one single ray of light: Hope."

Everyone had fallen into silence, and Banon turned, looking at each of them in turn. "Today, in our lifetime, we now confront those evils yet again. We have been searching for a ray of light, and now have found it. You, Terra. You are the last ray of light, our final hope."

Terra gasped as the full weight of what Banon was saying dawned on her. The fate of all the Returners had been laid on her shoulders. Banon wanted her to become a symbol and a leader in their struggle. Sabin's hand was still on her shoulder, and he gently gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Banon," said Edgar warningly, "that's enough. That's too much to lay on her now. We've been traveling for the past few weeks and spent the morning climbing this mountain. It's too much to put on her shoulders now."

The older man nodded and sighed wearily. "I too, am very tired. I can't remember the last time I slept. Let us all rest for a while, and regroup later. Locke, please show Terra and King Edgar where they may rest. Sabin, might I have a few words with you in private?"

Sabin nodded and Locke led the other two out of the room, closing the door behind him. The two men stood in an uncomfortable silence for several moments. Finally, Banon sighed.

"Have you seen Myra recently?" he asked.

Sabin nodded. "Just over a week ago. I went in to South Figaro to give her the news."

"How is she taking Duncan's death?" asked Banon, his voice thick with grief.

"Her husband was betrayed by their son!" rasped Sabin, "How do you think she feels! I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. She's handling his murder better than I thought she would. Burn me, she's handling it better than I am."

Banon nodded with a sad smile on his face as he sat down. "Everyone always underestimated my little sister. But she's tough. She was able to handle Duncan, even though when he and I were younger I never thought he'd settle down."

Sabin sniffed in memory. "Yeah. Myra's one tough lady. In some ways, I think she was just as strong as Duncan."

The two men were silent again for several moments, until Sabin's anger got the better of him. With a roar of rage he spun and threw his fist several inches deep into the rock face.

"Burn Vargas!" he shouted, "Burn me too! I should have known Vargas would try something. I should have been there for Master Duncan. I knew that Vargas had been expecting to be made the Master of the Ironhand style. He'd been anticipating it his entire life. He felt it was his birthright. How could Master Duncan have thought to make me his heir? I'm not even an Ironhand!"

"Stop!" demanded Banon, "Stop right there! You were the right choice, Sabin. I'd also seen what Vargas' ambitions were doing. His morals were falling apart faster and faster. You are as much Duncan's son as he was. You may not bear the Ironhand name, but you _are_ the one worthy of being the heir to a thousand years of tradition. My brother-in-law would be very proud of you right now Sabin. You'll bring honor to Duncan's memory, but first you must learn to grieve for his loss."

Sabin's eyes snapped up from where they were staring holes into the floor. For a brief moment, that gaze became so cold and furious that Banon shivered in fear. Those were not the eyes of a man. Those eyes belonged to Death. Cold. Calculating. Disciplined. But Death lived in the eyes of this man.

"Vargas betrayed his own father to the Empire," Sabin explained coldly, "and Kefka was the one to do the deed. I've seen Vargas die for his crime, but I will _not_ grieve until Kefka is punished for his part. When I see Kefka's corpse, then I will be able to mourn."

* * *

Terra awoke from her nap a few hours later. Since leaving South Figaro they'd all had to sleep on the hard ground, sometimes with mountain rocks as their pillows. The hard cots the Returners had here inside Mt. Kolts were a welcome relief, even if they didn't compare to a real mattress or feather pillow.

Some light snoring brought her more fully out of her sleep. Locke had agreed to stay with her until she fell asleep. It looked like he'd fallen asleep on the other cot, however, while sitting up against the wall. Terra couldn't help herself and laughed quietly, causing Locke to stir.

"Hey there," he yawned, "sleep well?"

She nodded, smiling. "Yeah. Better than the past few nights, anyway. How about you? That wall didn't look too comfortable."

Locke chuckled. "It's not, but hey, that's why I've got that special talent for sleeping just about anywhere. On the other hand, the absolute best place to sleep is in a treasure horde. To have gems and gold coins as your mattress and pillow, with crowns and jewelry to make the light sparkle. That's the best ever. For sleeping, of course."

Terra laughed again and Locke grinned. He had to help clear something up, though. "Smiles really suit you. Look, Terra, about earlier with Banon. Don't take him too literally, he won't try pressuring you into anything. Anyone who wants to join the Returners does so for their own reasons, not because Banon encourages it. Every single person here volunteered, knowing the dangers."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Locke, why did you become a Returner?"

"Someone… someone very important to me was imprisoned by the Empire," he explained, sighing deeply, "Ever since that happened, I've hated everything about Gestahl and his Empire. For a long time, I did what I could to be a nuisance, but I knew I couldn't be anything more than that on my own. When I decided that I wanted to make a real difference and hurt the Empire, that's when I finally found the Returners. They gave me a real reason to fight, along with the means and the will to see it through."

Terra felt a lump in her throat. Would anyone feel that much loyalty towards her? Would anyone fight so hard to exact justice if she was the one imprisoned? Was that enough of a reason to fight?

"But that doesn't really help me," she moaned, "I have no one significant in my life who would feel that way."

"That's not entirely true," protested Locke, "we're here with you. Edgar, Sabin, me, we're all with you on this. Besides, there are a lot more people out there who don't know how important you are to them. They're all counting on you."

Although Locke was trying his best to be helpful, he didn't realize that he was pushing Terra towards more despair. She couldn't imagine how great a weight it was to be considered the last ray of hope. How could people tell her she was important when she knew she wasn't? How could they have faith in her when she barely even knew her own name?

With a smile she didn't feel, Terra left the small sleeping quarters and walked into one of the main sitting rooms for the men. Four men were out there arm wrestling against Sabin. Despite all four of the Returners working together, Sabin still beat them.

"All right, all right," said one of the men, "what do we owe you? Ten gold?"

"That's ten each," answered Sabin, grinning widely, "don't think you're going to get out of it that easy."

The men paid up and left the room grumbling good-naturedly. He turned and smiled at Terra, somehow knowing she was there.

"Hey Terra," he greeted smiling.

Terra returned his smile with genuine warmth. There was something so easy about Sabin, like when you saw his smile he knew that nothing in the world was as bad as it seemed, and everything would be fine.

"I didn't have the opportunity to beat Banon over the head for being a bloody idiot earlier," he apologized, "but not to worry. I'll get him before the day is out."

Terra sat down at the table and gazed into his sea-blue eyes. "Why do you fight, Sabin?" she asked, "Why do you feel that this is a battle you need to be in? I know you said how you felt about losing Duncan, but there's more to it. I know there is."

Sabin nodded gently. "Many years ago, the Empire committed a terrible crime against Figaro. Gestahl betrayed his friend and ally. I intend to see justice done for it. But that's not the real reason. Duncan would deck me for seeking vengeance. He'd tell me that a man cannot enforce justice on a wrong done unto him, he can only take his revenge. No, I fight… because… people need help. They need to be able to wake up in the morning and know that someone stands between them and whatever threat there is. Gestahl's Empire will force people to live their lives not as they choose to do, but as Gestahl chooses. Everyone _must_ have the freedom to make their own choices, even, maybe especially if it's the _wrong_ choice."

"Wow," breathed Terra, "every time I look at you, all I can see is someone who's dedicated his life to smashing things with his fist. All I can see with my eyes is a brute. I'd be able to understand a brute. A philosopher is beyond me."

Sabin let out a roar of laughter. "Well, it's like Duncan always said, philosophy is 10 percent what you believe and 90 percent dragon spit. You're trying to decide whether or not to fight, but you can't ask us our reasons, Terra. You can only follow your own heart. Forget about anyone else; me, Locke, Edgar, Banon, the Returners, everyone. Just ask yourself, if you were alone, right now, would you fight? That's your answer. And it will be _your_ answer, not mine, not Locke's, not Edgar's, no one but your's."

"There are just so many people who are after me for one reason or another, Sabin," she said meekly, "who can I listen to? I feel comfortable talking to you about anything. Something about you tells me that you won't judge me, on anything. But who else can I trust?"

"Well, I can tell you that despite his playboy manner, you can trust my brother implicitly," replied Sabin with a smile, "He's always been fair to me, sometimes more than I've deserved. He'll stand by you through whatever you need. However…"

Sabin paused and looked deadly serious, and Terra swallowed, ready for whatever might come next. But Sabin's face quickly split into a grin and he laughed.

"However, don't you _dare_ tell him I ever said that!" he said through his laughter, "I can't be responsible for my actions if you do!"

Terra gave Sabin another beaming smile as she left. Burn that man! How could he always get a smile on her face, especially when she didn't want it there? As she was wandering the hideout, Terra came across Edgar sitting at a table, working on one of his tools. As soon as he saw her, Edgar stood and gave her a grand bow.

"My beautiful Terra, I hope you're feeling better?" he asked with a smile. It was eerie how similar his and Sabin's smiles were.

"Yes, thanks Edgar."

The young king nodded, his sky-blue eyes seeming to pierce her defenses. "As much as we want you fighting alongside us, it's going to be difficult to convince you. After all, if we push you too hard, and make you do something that you don't want to do, then we've made ourselves no different than the Empire. You just have to decide if this is a fight you think is worthy enough to join."

Terra stood there with her mouth ajar. Just when she thought she had Edgar figured out he went and did something unexpected. Like say something serious without turning into his usual flirtatious self.

"How… how did you know I was going ask that?" she wondered.

Edgar smiled and spun around, his cape flapping through the air behind him.

_Oh no,_ thought Terra, _back to the flirt. Burn him, he was just starting to impress me._

"Well gorgeous, this may seem like I'm boasting," he said over his shoulder, "but the truth remains I have been gifted with many natural talents. My handsome face, the ability to charm ladies out of their clothes, charming nobles and politicians to support me… but I must say my greatest talent is that I can always read a lady's mind!"

He spun back around with his "lady-killer" smile on, only to realize that she was gone. Edgar sighed. "Burn me. Keep your eyes on the target next time, old boy. Keep you eyes on the target."

_

* * *

Thank the Ancients, thought Terra, __I never thought I'd actually manage to escape that._thought Terra, 

She had wandered about the mountain base for a while after that, meeting many of the others who had joined the Returners. One room had been a storage area for many of their more powerful items. The captain who had been taking inventory had invited her to take what she needed. One item in particular had called to Terra, a beautiful cape of the purest white. She could feel something different about it, hidden flows of magical power suffused it.

It was a relic from the days of the Ancients. The secrets of making relics had been lost long before the War of the Magi, but there had been more in those days, she remembered hearing. The war had destroyed much of the world, including many of the relics that some people had thought to be indestructible. With a smile and a thanks to the Returner captain, she left the room.

She smiled wanly as she made her way outside. Edgar had been the worst of her friends to deal with, as always, but on her way through the base she'd encountered at least a dozen Returners, all of whom looked at her like she was their savior, or actually pleaded with her to join their fight.

As Terra made it into the late afternoon sun, she took a deep breath. She sat down on one of the rocks and closed her eyes. She'd seen Sabin meditating several times when she'd woken up on the journey here. He always seemed calm when he came out of it, and Terra figured it was worth a try.

She steadied her breathing, deep breaths in and out. Terra let her hands rest in her lap as she closed her eyes. She tried to calm her thoughts, but they were just going too rapidly. Half-forgotten memories, doubts of her future, thoughts about her three friends, images of Kefka, and more bombarded her mind. She'd never be able to meditate.

Terra opened her eyes, and saw Banon sitting on one of the rocks opposite her. He was watching her, not with that evaluating gaze from earlier, but this time with compassion and kindness. Instantly she saw why Locke and Edgar thought so highly of him. With one look she was ready to trust Banon implicitly.

_Just ask yourself, if you were alone, right now, would you fight?_

Sabin's words echoed in her mind. Is this a war she should help wage? Would the victory be worth the cost? She knew she no longer had time to put off the decision. It was now or never, play it safe or take a chance?

"I am sorry that I've had to put this weight on your shoulders, my dear," Banon said to her, "but these days, there is so little hope against the Empire's mighty armies. People must have hope. Without it, there will be no victory in war. There will only be casualties. Will you fight alongside us? Will you be our last ray of hope?"

Terra felt tears gather in her eyes, and could see in Banon's eyes that he already knew her answer.

"I… _can't_," she whispered, "I'm only Terra. Just Terra. I can't be everyone's hope. It's too much. I can't be your hope."

Tears streaming down her face, Terra ran back into the mountain base, not paying attention to where she was going. She slid against one wall, mostly hidden by stacks of crates. She hadn't been able to do it. They wanted her to save the world. It was too big, it was too much.

Distantly, she heard people yelling, and pulled herself out of her grief to hear what was being shouted.

"All Returners begin evacuation! Start getting your assigned supplies out of here and follow evacuation procedures to the rendezvous! Move it!"

Terra dried her eyes and stood up, following soldiers back to the main entrance. Banon, the others, and several of the Returners' captains stood huddled together. Terra squeezed in between Locke and Edgar, and gasped.

A young Returner, no older than her, lay on the ground. His left arm was gone, only a charred stump remained. His clothes were blackened and a deep gouge ran across his chest.

"Bloody Ancients," cursed Locke quietly, "someone really did a number on him."

Sabin knelt next to the young man as one last shudder when through him. He looked up at Banon.

"He lost too much blood, and kept bleeding inside. I can feel it in his belly," explained Sabin as he pushed gently against the man's stomach.

"Bloody Magitek armor," muttered Banon, then turned to address the rest gathered around, "All captains, meet in the main conference room. Everyone else will continue the evacuation. Sabin, Locke, Edgar, Terra, please come with us."

Locke helped keep her steady as Terra walked away from the dead Returner. Her face was contorted in a mixture of despair and pain. Her knees felt like jelly, but she couldn't understand why. She'd already killed more than a few men since leaving Narshe, so why should this one's death bother her so much?

"What happened?" she asked Locke.

The rogue shook his head. "We're not sure. All of a sudden Banon came in from sitting outside yelling for help. He tried to use his healing abilities, but it didn't work. All the kid was able to say was that the Empire was coming."

Terra was immediately grateful that Banon hadn't told anyone what her answer had been.

Banon led them all to a large conference room with a single long table set with a many chairs. He immediately took the seat at the head of the table, while the Returner captains took their own seats in no particular order.

"Jereth is dead," said Banon without preamble, "and it is clear from his wounds that he was killed by a suit of Magitek armor. He was only able to say that the Empire was on its way here, hence the reason for the evacuation. Before we separate, we need to make plans for the future. We know that Gestahl has had Magitek armor for years and has deployed units in countless engagements, which always turns the tide of battle in his favor. But we haven't asked ourselves _how_ he's learned to create these machines."

"While we were back at Figaro Castle, Locke uncovered numerous rumors that the Empire has had their finest scholars and scientists examining every rumor and shred of information that is known about Espers," explained Edgar.

"Now when we take that information, and add it to the fact that the only thing that interested the Empire in Narshe was the unearthed Esper, and the coincidences started getting less and less coincidental," added Locke.

Understanding nods passed around the table, but Terra was still confused.

"You mean, there's some kind of connection between Espers and Magitek armor?" she asked.

Banon nodded thoughtfully. "I can think of only one connection, my dear. The War of the Magi."

"It can't be," whispered Edgar.

Whispers and murmurs of disbelief ran through the gathered captains. Terra just looked at them all.

"My grandmother used to tell me stories about the Age of the Magi," said Locke, "She said the war ravaged the planet, with the Espers using their magic to power machines of destruction. Banon, do you really all those old legends are true?"

The old man shrugged uncomfortably. "It's only speculation, Locke. No one really _knows_ anything about the War of the Magi or anything prior. But there are some stories that have been too frightening for people to pass down. Stories that say not only could machines be imbued with the magical power of the Espers, but people could, as well."

"We can only match the Empire's Magitek advantage with one of our own," said Edgar thoughtfully.

"My feelings precisely," agreed Banon, "my plan is risky, but if Terra is able to somehow communicate with that Esper in Narshe, we might have a solution to winning the war. She might even be able to get it to awaken."

"Banon," said Sabin, "are you certain that's a wise move? Mortals shouldn't toy with powers beyond their comprehension."

"I can't say whether or not it's wise, my friend," answered the older man, "Regardless, we need Terra's help. Maybe we won't be saving the world all at once, but I think this is a good first step."

Terra looked at him sharply, her face slack with astonishment. Banon was once again asking for her help. This time however, it was a much lighter load to bear. She wasn't being asked to save the world. She was being asked to take a step in the right direction. One thing at a time. It was the only way she could get her head around it.

She looked around the table, seeing the pleading faces of the Returner captains. She looked at Sabin's smile, full of confidence that she would make the decision right for her. She saw Edgar's hope that she could help right the wrongs that Kefka and the Empire had done to the world. She saw in Locke's face the desperation of making the Empire pay its crimes.

_If I don't fight,_ she thought, _how many more people will suffer? How many more will be sacrificed for the Empire's grab at magical power? These people have done nothing but try to help me, can I refuse? Do they deserve it? Do I have the right after all they've done?_

"I'll do it," she said more confidently than she felt.

Locke and Edgar's faces split into wide smiles, and Sabin's smile turned into a knowing look.

Suddenly another Returner rushed into the room. "Lord Banon, sir! Another messenger has arrived!"

Banon was the first one out of the room, with Terra and the others right on his heels. A woman older than Edgar was sitting on a few of the crates. There were burn marks along her left ribs and on the underside of her left arm. Without a word, Banon brought his hands close to her injuries. Green sparks seemed to jump from his palms to the wounds, and in moments they had vanished as if they'd never existed.

"What news do you have?" he asked sternly.

"Sir, South Figaro was invaded by the Empire two nights ago," she explained, "they took control of the city yesterday morning. We learned this while interrogating an Imperial scout when my team was attacked by a pair of Magitek armor suits. They know we're here, and they're on their way."

Banon nodded gruffly. "They found us. I knew they would… eventually. We haven't a moment to lose. Captains! Be certain that your units take the necessary supplies as you evacuate the area. Make for the rendezvous with all haste and wait for me to contact you. I will be using the alternate codes in case the Empire has learned our primary codes. May the Ancients speed you on your way!"

Locke was looking back and forth between Edgar and Banon. "Well, looks like _someone_ has to go and keep the Empire preoccupied for a while. Give everyone as much time as possible and keep the Empire going as slowly as possible. I wonder who has the necessary talents to sneak around Imperial lines?"

Edgar managed a brave smile for his friend. "Why I think that would be right you alley, thief."

"Treasure hunter," insisted Locke, "Terra, I don't know how long I'll be, but you'll be safest in Narshe. I'll be back. Sabin, take care of her."

Sabin gave the treasure hunter a serious nod and Locke moved toward the cave entrance. Then he stopped. "And by the way Terra, don't allow a lecherous young king, who shall remain nameless, anywhere near you!"

Locke was gone before Edgar could get a sputtering reply out of his mouth, his face having gone well past red.

Sabin chuckled softly. "Big brother, aren't you _ever_ going to grow up?"

Edgar did what he could to get himself under control, then turned to face them. "So what about us? Narshe, is it?"

"We can make our escape down the Lete River," explained Banon, "Once the river turns towards the ocean, we can make landfall and make our way to Narshe then. I'm going with you. I want to see this Esper for myself. And Arvis needs to be updated on the situation."

Banon led them back through the mountain complex until they ended up on the other side of the mountain. The Lete River flowed very quickly at this point, making the large raft waiting there sway back and forth violently.

Sabin leapt onto the raft, amazingly keeping his footing even as the raft shook beneath him.

"Come on!" he called.

Banon jumped on next, steadied by Sabin's bulk. Terra went next, and almost stumbled if she hadn't fallen right into Sabin.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Anytime," he replied.

Edgar was the last to hop aboard, cutting the mooring lines with his sword as he did so. Sabin used the large pole on board to push them away from the sides of the cliffs and into the river's flow. But all wasn't relaxing, because Terra saw rocks directly in the path.

"You didn't say anything about rapids on this river!" she yelled at Banon.

The old man smiled. "Well, I didn't think any of you would agree to take this route if I had! Sorry!"

"Hang on!" yelled Sabin.

The other three held on as tightly as they could while the river roared and crashed all around them. Sabin stood at the rear of the raft, using the pole to guide them as best as he could around the rocks. Watching him as the water sprayed around him while he stood straight, it was surreal, like something out a storybook or an artist's imagination.

It only took a few minutes to get through the rapids, but it felt like hours. Once they were past the rocks, the river was still very fast-flowing. Sabin sank to one knee, exhausted. Banon made his way over, green sparks flying from his hands across all of Sabin's body, rejuvenating him.

Edgar crawled over to where Terra was sitting at the edge of the raft. "So gorgeous, when we get to Narshe, how about that dinner I promised you?"

Terra gave him a bemused smile. "Edgar, when we get to Narshe, the only thing I'm going to do is have a hot bath. Alone."

Edgar nodded and moved away, muttering something about her being uncooperative, but he was smiling.

Suddenly the raft slowed almost to a crawl, despite the speed of the water flowing around them.

"I don't like this," commented Banon.

Without warning, massive tentacles leapt out of the water, two of them holding the raft virtually still, and a large purple mass rose in front of them. Some kind of octopus, but the creature had a humanoid face with two large eyes and a wide mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth. The creature laughed.

"Bow to me mortals! Bow before the might of the glorious Ultros!" cried the octopoid.

"Boy, you are ugly," muttered Sabin.

"Don't _dare_ tease the octopus, you delicious morsel!" yelled Ultros, "Just let me get a bib and you'll all soon enjoy the hospitality of my stomach!"

One of its tentacles flew forward, slamming heavily into Banon and knocking the old man down heavily.

"Banon!" cried Terra, but she turned towards the creature, throwing her hands forward and letting flames shoot forth to engulf Ultros, making the monster roar in pain.

"I'll show you the power of Figaro!" yelled Edgar as he pulled out his autocrossbow and fired a volley of heavy spikes into the mass of purple flesh.

Ultros roared again and flung another tentacle forward, hitting Edgar across the face. Terra spun to see if he was okay, and caught a glimpse of Sabin.

His hands were close together at his stomach, a globe of pure white light shining between them. For just a moment, Terra could have sworn that once again Sabin's body was suffused with golden-white light. Then he stepped forward and threw his hands out, a beam of white light hurtling through the air and scorching Ultros.

As the creature pulled away from the raft in pain, green sparks flew from Banon's hands onto all of them, healing the welts from Ultros' tentacles.

"I never lose!" screamed Ultros, "I'll turn you all into seafood soup!"

The octopus-creature sent four of its tentacles hurtling forward, hoping to knock them off the raft and into his territory: the water. But this time they were ready. Sabin and Terra were both able to dodge the blow, while Banon managed to bring his shield up and deflect the tentacle to the side, while Edgar shot the one coming at him full of spikes from his autocrossbow.

Terra and Banon both cut at the creature with their weapons, cutting off the ends of the tentacles, while Sabin again focused his power and fired another beam of spiritual energy through the air.

"I'll get you yet!" screamed Ultros.

The octopoid sank into the water, drenching them with the spray. For the moment, the four heroes thought they were safe.

"You think we thrashed it?" wondered Sabin.

"I wouldn't bet on it, little brother," commented Edgar, "I'm pretty sure that he's down below, hiding and just waiting for another opportunity."

Terra nodded, breathing heavily. She never wanted to see that creature again. Suddenly, something wet and slimy wrapped around her leg. "Eww! Something's on my leg!"

Sabin and Edgar were there a split second later. Sabin grabbed her and pulled her away from the edge of the raft while Edgar cut away the purple tentacle. Then the raft began to shake violently, making it all they could do to remain standing.

"He's right underneath us!" cried Banon.

Edgar grunted as he tried to keep his balance. "He's gonna knock us right off the raft and into the water! We won't stand a chance against him!"

"Stand back, I'll get him with a Blitz!" Sabin assured them. Ignoring his brother's protests, Sabin leapt high into the air and dove straight into the water.

Terra's face had gone white with fear for Sabin as Edgar muttered about his younger brother's overzealousness. After one last violent shake the raft seemed to be free and continued down the river. But there was no sign of Sabin.

"Sabin!" yelled Edgar and Terra together.

"Don't do to this to me, little bro!" Edgar went on, "I've waited ten years so don't make me lose you again!"

"I wouldn't worry about him, he'll be fine," said Banon surely.

"Are you sure?" asked Edgar.

Banon gave them an enigmatic smile. "You should know better than any of us. I'm sure in a moment he'll come flopping back onto the raft."

A second later, Sabin came hurtling out of the water, only to crash into the cliff wall, knocking him unconscious and dropping him in the river behind them.

"Sabin!" cried Terra fearfully, as they watched the river pull him down a different branch than them. His head just barely bobbed above the water.

Edgar was suddenly next to her, holding her shoulders and doing his best to comfort her.

"You take care of yourself, Sabin," whispered Edgar as Sabin disappeared from their view.

Banon reluctantly steered them on towards Narshe, knowing that if Sabin survived, he'd meet them there.

The rest of the afternoon passed by in relative silence. Terra was amazed by her own reaction. She had known Locke for much longer than Sabin, yet it was the latter who occupied most of her thoughts. Certainly Locke had saved her life and she trusted him to stand by her when she needed him, but he didn't have that same aura of compassionate confidence. Terra knew that whenever Sabin was around, things seemed less dire. Maybe it was because she knew he'd been trained by the greatest hero of all time, maybe it was because he could laugh at so much, she didn't know.

Just by looking into Edgar's sky-blue eyes, she could tell that he was also very worried about his younger brother.

Banon finally brought them to a stop when the Lete River began to make a sharp turn towards the east. They made their camp for the night on the riverbank, with Narshe a two day's march away.

They had a quiet dinner of warm rations, for none of them had any real expertise hunting. Terra had seen Locke set a few traps on their trip down to Figaro Castle, but she still had no idea how they worked.

Eventually, as she continued to go over the fight with Ultros, guilt pushed its way to the top of her emotions. Sabin had been protecting her, just like the others had. Why did they always feel like they had to protect her? She could take care of herself! She knew Edgar did it out of his flirtatious nature, to be the perfect gentleman and take the blow for the lady.

Terra stifled a chuckle at that thought.

But Sabin didn't seem to have a reason. On the trip to Mt. Kolts he'd stepped in front of them to take more blows than he had any right to take from the monsters they ran into. It was like it was in his nature to protect. Terra shook her head, wishing it would all make sense.

"Hey Terra," said Edgar.

She returned his greeting with a weak smile.

"Hey, don't give me a lying smile like that," he admonished, "I at least deserve a genuine smile. I know you're worried about Sabin. I am too. But we shouldn't worry all that much. Just because my brother's brains are inversely proportional to the size of his muscles…"

Terra had to giggle at that. That had been her first thought about Sabin; all muscle and no brain. She was glad to have been proven wrong.

"But the fact is," continued Edgar, "that somehow he managed to make it through all these years outside the castle, away from his royal heritage. Sabin's a survivor, he'll make it to Narshe."

"I think you're both worrying about him far too much," commented Banon, already stretched out on his bedroll, "Sabin could not have asked for a better mentor in the world than Master Duncan. A legend in his own time, Duncan was a wise old bird who knew a great deal more than just how to fight. But there never was a greater warrior to walk the earth."

Edgar shook his head and winked at Terra. "You're being too modest, Banon. You fail to mention yourself, for the legends speak of Master Duncan and his equally legendary friend; Banon, the healing general."

Terra noticed that the older man actually _blushed_ crimson and tried to bury himself under the bedroll.

"That was all a long time ago," muttered Banon, but Edgar didn't let up.

"My father told me stories about the two of you as leaders. Duncan, who never failed to lead his soldiers from the front, always there to fight alongside them. Banon, whose strategies and tactics turned the tide of victory more than once based on a single wise decision. He told me how Generals Banon and Duncan stood at the forefront of the Urthmen War and saved thousands upon thousands of lives in Figaro, Doma, and the southern continent."

Banon emerged from under his bedroll and looked rather pensive. "Yes. We saved many lives during that war, as we fought alongside our old friend, the _noble_ Lord Gestahl. And it was our efforts that gave Gestahl the opportunity to create his Empire and set the world on its current path. Remember, both of you remember this. The actions of every individual person have consequences on the entire world, and all too often those consequences are what you could never imagine."

* * *

They marched on into the colder mountain valleys, until Terra once again found snow under her footsteps. Edgar seemed almost fascinated by the snow. With his castle in the middle of a desert and the city getting warm ocean breezes all year-round, there weren't many opportunities for him to enjoy the simple pleasure of snow.

After another day or two of walking the three of them could see the walls of Narshe as the sun was just falling behind the mountains.

Banon shivered a little under his cloak. "I can't wait to rest these bones in front of a warm fire at Arvis' home. Maybe he'll have some tea ready…"

Edgar chuckled and even Terra managed a smile.

"Is Arvis the man Locke told me about?" she asked, "The man who helped me escape?"

"That's Arvis," replied Banon, "he's a good man. One of the first people who joined the Returners to fight against the Empire."

The three of them approached the main gate, which was heavily guarded by at least two squads of Narshe's guards. Most of them looked younger than Terra, and they readied their weapons as the trio approached.

"Halt there!" ordered the oldest one, no older than Edgar.

"Hang on a moment, sir," said one of the boys, "isn't this the Imperial witch who busted through town a few weeks ago?"

"Burn me, you're right boy!" he cried, "Get out of here, you flaming witch!"

Surprisingly, it was Banon who stepped up first. "Now wait just a minute, do you know who I am?"

"No," said the guard with a smirk, and then he promptly punched Banon in the stomach.

The older man fell to his knees, and then Edgar was between the two of them and the guards.

"Hold on a minute," he cried, "I'm King Edgar Figaro, we have business here with Elder Kendrik."

"You're a liar!" yelled the young boy, punching Edgar in the face, "No one could be with that bloody witch! She helped kill so many people! She… she…"

The boy couldn't say any more than that, and Terra suddenly realized he must have lost someone very close to him. A father, maybe, or a brother. She shuddered, realizing that it had been because of her he'd lost that person. Who else had she killed? Here and elsewhere? Where had she been in her dream, with Kefka gleefully telling her to burn everything?

"Get out of here," rasped the older guard, "if you come back again, we'll string you up by your neck."

With Edgar rubbing his cheek and Banon holding his side, the three of them backed away from the gate as the guards closed it against them.

"That kind of attitude is going to get us killed," muttered Edgar, "I have no idea how we can get into town, they won't even listen to us now."

"This is all my fault," whispered Terra, "I came here and killed so many of them…"

"This was not your fault, Terra," said Banon firmly, "You were controlled by a Slave Crown. Whoever sent you here, it's their fault those people died. All we can do is try to set things right, but first we need to figure out how to get into the town."

Remembering how she and Locke had escaped from Narshe, she led the two men to the west along the mountain, until they could barely make out the lights along the town wall. Terra was pretty certain this is where she and Locke had emerged from the mines.

_Try not to forget about this,_ Locke had said to her.

"When Locke helped me to escape from here," she explained to the others, "he led me out through one of the secret tunnels of Narshe. I think we came out somewhere around here."

Edgar nodded. "Locke's always had a thing for secrets. One of these outcroppings is probably the switch to open the entrance. Did he do anything complicated with the switch?"

"No, he just pushed it up," replied Terra.

For the next twenty minutes they searched around the area, trying to pull down every thrust of rock in front of them. Finally, Terra found one jagged bit that felt like cold metal, not rock. She pulled it down and just to the left, the rock wall pushed in a bit and swung inward.

"And the tools of a thief strike again," muttered a grinning Edgar as they entered.

They followed the pitch-black tunnel until it opened up in one of the lower levels of the mines. But even here, the oil lamps burned brightly. Edgar explained that the people of Narshe had long ago domesticated and trained giant mine rats for exploration and to keep the lamps filled and lit at all hours of the day.

Terra was already looking forward to a chair in front of a warm fire with a cup of hot soup. If she never saw another snowflake again in her life it would be fine with her.

"Hold it!" whispered Banon loudly, "Look ahead."

In front of them, a shining silver ball of light hovered in mid-air.

"It's a guardian light," explained the old man, "it's an ancient defense mechanism that's been long forgotten by man. It must be a security measure left by Moogle magic from when they lived in these levels, before they moved deeper into the mountains. It will lay out a course for us to follow, and we have to follow it exactly. No one knows exactly what happens if you fail. Some legends say the light can simply kill you or do something as amazing as send you to a different reality."

"Well, let's not tempt the Ancients," said Edgar, "we'll be careful and get through this as quickly as we can."

The three of them followed the light as carefully and as fast as they could. Trying to make sure that it never got too far out of sight, so that they could see where it turned around the large columns of rock that were interspersed throughout the room. After more than ten minutes of following the light, they finally emerged on the opposite side of the room.

They climbed the rocky incline and came to a new level of the mines, one that Terra recognized as the one she had fallen from. She took over the lead and took the two men through the mines. Mine rats and the ugly little men with wrenches pestered them, but with Banon and Edgar with her, they were much less of a problem.

Finally they emerged onto the snow-covered ledge over the western edge of the town. Terra wrapped herself in the white cape she'd picked up at Mt. Kolts and led the other two over the bridge that led directly to the back door of Arvis' house. Quietly they opened the back door and slipped inside.

Arvis wasn't in his bedroom, but rather in one of the oversized chairs in front of the fire. He was staring into the flames, completely unaware of them.

"Good evening, Arvis," said Banon quietly.

The other man leapt out of the chair, spilling the glass of wine he'd been sipping at.

"Banon!" he cried, "Terra? King Edgar? Your majesty, pardon me. Burn you, Banon, quit sneaking up behind me!"

The Returners' leader grinned widely. "Sorry about that. We've had to evacuate Mt. Kolts. The Empire turned up there and has also taken South Figaro. Locke is doing what he can to keep the Empire from coming back to Narshe, or at least to slow them down as much as possible. What's been happening here in Narshe?"

Arvis shook his head disgustedly. "The town remains neutral. A lot of the younger boys who joined the guards want to strike out at the Empire, but Elder Kendrik and most of the rest of the Council keeps them in line. All he has to do is remind everyone of his mistake."

Banon nodded in understanding, but Edgar and Terra were left looking at each other. Did everyone they were associating with know each other?

"I've tried to convince people to side with you and the Returners," continued Arvis, "but Elder Kendrik keeps me quiet as much as he can. Anyway, what in Ancients' name made you three come here?"

"How are your people doing?" asked Edgar.

Arvis shrugged. "After Terra and the others came through, Elder Kendrik had no choice but to reveal the fact that an Esper had been found in the mines. Somehow he'd kept it from the town at large. So everyone went… slightly berserk when they found out. It'll get even worse when they learn that the Empire is coming back."

"Well, hopefully this young woman will help communicate with that Esper," said Banon, placing his hands on Terra's shoulders, "We probably have more to learn about it than we can imagine."

"The people are clamoring to see the Esper," explained Arvis, "some of them began swarming into the mines. Elder Kendrik and the Marshal-Captain moved the Esper somewhere into the mountains, no one knows where, and there are guards at every pass. Maybe Terra, you could help restore some order to the town."

She nodded sharply. Her doubts were gone, she knew what she had to do. This was a battle she had to fight. She had to show the people of Narshe that people could make their own decisions when they weren't being controlled. She would show them that she wasn't a danger. Terra knew she would do what she had to do, just like everyone else.

Edgar stood off to one side, watching the other three talking. He shook his head grimly. "That Esper is either going to save us… or dig us an early grave."


	8. Chapter 6: Silent Stalking

I am sorry to make everyone keep waiting, you'd think it would be easier to write a story I have completely figured out in my head. Anyway, MogGuy, I love your enthusiastic reviews. I will be keeping to the story, so unfortunately, yes, Ultros will remain in the story, but it a minor role, more like simple mentions of him. Gogo and Umaro will probably also make appearances late in the story, but again they will be minor characters. I think the 12 heroes we have to start with is plenty. Oh, and Banon's healing powers will be explained whenever I finally get back to my story Foundations of Ruin.

Wonwingangel, I do apologize for the length of the chapters, but that's how much I wish to stuff in at every point. This way, since it also takes a while for me to update, I'm not giving people these crappy little chapters, but nice long chapters that can tide them over to the next update. And I understand what you were saying in the review with the quote you used, I'll try to work on it, thanks for the comment.

Also welcome to Lithium Flower, hope you continue to read and offer your reviews. To everyone else, thank you and enjoy.

* * *

The light patter of rapid footsteps was nearly silent compared to the thudding of heavy boots that followed it in the streets of South Figaro's eastern district. Locke was running for his life from the pair of Imperial soldiers behind him.

As he rounded a corner, Locke spotted a pair of Magitek armored soldiers.

_Oh, bloody Ancients!_ he cursed silently.

Without missing a beat, however, Locke slid down and around the corner of one house, easily hiding in the shadows. Not a minute too soon either, for he caught a glimpse of the two Imperials who'd been chasing him.

"I don't see him," said one of them.

"He wouldn't have gone anywhere near a soldier in Magitek armor," commented the other, "We must have taken a wrong turn in following him. We'll double-back, see if we can run into him again."

After another few moments, their footsteps died away, and Locke sighed in relief, trying to calm his racing heart. For the last few days he'd been harassing the Imperials' supply lines and sabotaging many of their larger siege engines. It wasn't doing South Figaro any good, he knew, since the Empire already had soldiers in almost every street, but Locke could hope that he'd bought Narshe a few more weeks.

Still, there were a few things that were strange about South Figaro. A trio of Imperial captains had made announcements that they were there for the safety of the people, to protect the city from the dangerous Returners. They posted notices saying that the people of Figaro were free to carry on with their lives as normal, but until the leaders of the Returners were caught no one would be allowed to leave the city.

Those weren't unusual, the Empire usually tried to seem benign to its conquered cities. But what didn't make sense was there was no general overseeing this operation. For an invasion of such a prominent city and the scale of the Imperial forces that he'd seen, Locke would have sworn a general would be required by Gestahl.

Locke shook his head. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that with Imperial troops at every corner, there was no easy way out of the city.

With another sigh, Locke glided around the corner and slipped in the front door without anyone noticing. Well… almost anyone.

"Excuse me, young man but can I help you?"

Locke spun around and then blushed. He would have picked to go into someone's house. She was an older woman, clearly in her middle years, but she was still amazingly beautiful. Even though her hair was more silver than brown and she had slight lines at the corners of her eyes, Locke could tell that when she was younger this woman was probably one of the most beautiful in the world. Even now she could probably still turn heads.

"I'm sorry, my lady," he said graciously, "I was just…"

"Just trying to get away from the guards?" she finished with a smile, "Getting into things you can't quite handle alone, are you? Here, you look famished. Here's some stew. It's not the best, but it should ward away the gnawing hunger I can see in your eyes."

The woman was right. Locke hadn't eaten properly in the last few days, nor slept. But that was a problem for another time.

"Who are you?" he asked as he gobbled at the hot stew. It was really good.

"My name's Myra," she answered with a dazzling smile, "I can tell you how to get out of the city, what with all the streets being watched."

"You can?" asked Locke, astounded, "You will? Why? Just who are you?"

She smiled again. "After being the wife of Master Duncan for so many years, it's rather unfortunate when my husband's nobility rubs off on me."

Locke sucked in his breath. This was Master Duncan's _wife!_ Did she know about his death? Did she know about how Sabin killed Vargas? Wait a moment, she was Vargas' mother!

Myra must have read the look in his eyes, for she nodded slowly. "Yes, I know. I know how my boy went to the Empire. I know what he did to my husband. Sabin will see justice done. I love that boy as if he was my own. Sabin will make Duncan and I proud. But first we need to get you out of South Figaro."

Locke nodded rather dumbly. Despite knowing about her husband's death and the fact that Sabin was hunting, or rather, _had hunted_ her son, Myra was surprisingly cheerful and warm-hearted. He would have figured she'd be grieving terribly at losing her entire family. Oh well, different people deal with things in different ways.

"If you can get to the manor of Tam Caetrin, Figaro's wealthiest merchant, then there is an old passageway in there that leads into the city's ancient tunnels," explained Myra, "The entrance is in the main bedroom, and you should feel a draft. At least from what I've heard from Tam's servants and his wife. I think the Empire knows about them, but because they're secret from most of the city, they shouldn't be too heavily guarded."

"But how can I get to Caetrin's bloody manor?" asked Locke, "the only people walking the streets are Imperial troops or merchants!"

Myra gave the young rogue a knowing look, and Locke suddenly grinned. He'd just gotten an idea. The fact that he might not have thought of it without Myra staring at him was something he could overlook. The point was he _did_ think of it.

He nodded and gave the older woman a beaming smile. "Thank you, Myra. For the stew and for your help. I was beginning to despair."

"Despair is the first step to failure," she said calmly, which sounded odd coming from her.

"Myra," he said slowly, "I don't know if I should tell you this. But I met with Sabin. He and Vargas fought, right in front of me. Vargas, he used the, Sabin called them the dark techniques. Sabin didn't have any choice. Vargas tried to kill him."

"But Sabin won," she finished for him again. Myra sniffled back tears but after a few trembles she held herself in control. "Thank you for telling me. I will pray for Sabin's safety in his journeys ahead, and for yours, Locke Cole."

Locke was stunned, to say the least. "You know who I am?"

She smiled. "When Banon is my older brother, I get to hear all the dirt on the Returners he recruits. Especially the thieves."

"Treasure hunter," muttered Locke.

"May the Ancients grant you their favor," she blessed, "Good journey, Locke."

With another smile and a nod, Locke slipped out of the house. He knew there was a shop not far from here. Maybe he could start getting his plan into action. The hill behind Myra's home led into a somewhat poorer district of the city, but Locke could clearly see a shop open for business.

Going inside, there was only the store's owner and another merchant, going over a box of supplies he'd obviously just purchased. Locke approached the two men, not really knowing what he was going to say or do. If nothing else, maybe the merchant could help him, maybe he knew more about Figaro's tunnel system.

Fortunately, the merchant solved that problem.

"You keep away from my supplies," he ordered, "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I recognize you! You're that thief, Locke Cole!"

Locke balled up his fists and turned red with anger and indignation, for as show as much as for real.

"You better flaming call me a treasure hunter or I'll rip your lungs out of your bloody body!" Locke said quietly to the man.

Before either of them moved, Locke noticed the store owner disappear into the back room.

The merchant pulled out a very small knife, something that could barely cause a scratch, and Locke wanted to laugh out loud. This was really quite pathetic. The merchant lunged, but Locke dodged nimbly out of the way. A few moments later, Locke was able to knock the man out without severely harming him, then dragged him off to a side room.

Quickly stripping the merchant of his clothes, Locke slipped them on over his own. In a few moments, the sand-colored tunic, blue pants and desert head wrap made Locke seem to be any other merchant just in from the Figaro Desert.

He quickly stretched out to check his range of movement. "Well, these are a little tight," he said to himself, "but hey, the price was right."

An hour later, Locke stood alongside the canal in the northern part of the city, watching the Caetrin manor. Myra hadn't been kidding when she said the Imperials had converted the place to their headquarters. At least a dozen soldiers in Magitek armor surrounded the building, along with at least another hundred patrolling the grounds.

"Well, I'm not going in the front door," muttered Locke sullenly.

Turning to leave, Locke nearly crashed into a young boy hurrying through the streets. Startled, the boy threw himself backwards, landing hard on his backside.

"Whoa! Sorry about that," apologized Locke, "Didn't mean to scare you like that."

He offered his hand to the boy, who ignored it and stood up on his own.

"I don't need your apology," he said, trying to sound tough and arrogant, "I'll make you pay. Master Caetrin will make sure you never trade in this city again!"

"Hold on a moment, kid," said Locke, "how do you know Tam Caetrin?"

"My grandfather used to work for Master Caetrin," said the boy proudly, "He was the manor's gardener and groundskeeper, he got to know all the secrets of the place."

Locke's mouth firmed in determination. Maybe the kid's grandfather could get him into the manor.

"I'm sorry about knocking you down," he said, "but do you think you could take me to see your grandfather? I'd like to ask him for his help."

With a careless shrug the boy turned on his heel and began to walk. Locke followed him south along the canal before crossing back over to the eastern side. The house was built at the base of the eastern hill, not far from where Locke had begun the ridiculous trip at Myra's.

_This is the flaming last time I volunteer to be the do-gooder,_ Locke promised himself, a promise he'd already broken countless times before.

The boy led the two of them inside, then pointed as the hallway swung around to the left. Meanwhile, the kid descended a staircase and Locke moved cautiously into the main study. There was an old man sitting in one of the lounge chairs reading a book, but his eyes were slightly glassy from age, and perhaps a touch of senility.

The old man didn't give Locke a chance to speak. "Listen up. If you want to talk to me, you're going to have to run an errand. I ran out of spiced cider this morning. Head on over to the _Soaring Dragon_, they're the only ones who make halfway decent cider this time of year. Bring me some and I might talk to you, otherwise shut up and get lost."

His mouth still hanging somewhat agape, Locke slowly backed out of the room, then out of curiosity went downstairs where the boy had been, and was playing with some toys at the base of the stairs. With a little grin, the kid got out of the way and let Locke out the back door.

After a few minutes, Locke realized that this part of the city was mostly deserted except for soldiers. While the officers had their headquarters at Caetrin's manor, Locke guessed that the common soldiers had been spending the majority of their time in the market district, where most of the entertainment of the city could be found. He made his way to the _Soaring Dragon_, remembering coming here with Edgar and Terra. He hoped the Ancients would grace him to see them again.

Wandering through the café, he could tell that this was one of the more popular Imperial hangouts. No wonder. The _Dragon_ was one of the best places in the whole city! And apparently, the owner had relaxed his rules on alcohol. Usually the bar kept a careful eye on who was drinking, in order to avoid rowdy patrons. But more soldiers were drunk than not. Locke had always thought that the _Dragon_ was a part of the Returners, but if it was, no one was in the know except Banon. Certainly the loud conversations of the soldiers would be overheard, probably why he thought a lot of it might get back to Banon. There were Returner agents everywhere.

"That clown, you know, Kefka," slurred one soldiers, "I heard he taking Narshe. Found something, yeah. Gonna get it. This is good Kohlingen whiskey!"

_Probably the cheap knock-off stuff, jerk!_

No way would the _Dragon_ serve good alcohol to soldiers who probably weren't even paying.

Locke did what he could to control his instincts. He had to get out of the city, and to do that he needed spiced cider. Downstairs. Maneuvering his way through the soldiers, he finally made it to the stairs into the _Dragon's_ storage rooms. In the back he finally came to the wine cellar, where they would also keep the cider cool.

There was one man in plain clothes taking an inventory. A still-unopened bottle of spiced cider sat on the table in front of him, waiting to be stacked.

"Hey! Who are you!" demanded the man, spotting Locke, "You came down here to steal our cider! Get out of here you thief!"

The man came at Locke with his fists, but the rogue hit him on the back of the head with the pommel of his knife. The man went down like a bag of stones.

"Sorry for the headache you'll have when you wake up," apologized Locke with a grimace.

With no more hesitation, Locke grabbed the bottle, stuffing it under his shirt, then hurried through the soldiers in the _Dragon_, and back towards that old man's house. He slipped in the back door, passed the boy and went into the study, handing the old man the bottle.

The old man immediately poured himself a tall glass of the cider and began chugging it down. Locke winced.

_That's no way to drink a bottle of good spiced cider,_ thought Locke, but he kept his mouth shut. Maybe Banon and Arvis _had_ taught him something, after all.

"My grandson told me you want a way into Master Caetrin's house," said the old man, "Well, you did bring me some cider. There's a tunnel that connects our house here to the manor. This house is owned by the Caetrins, they use the tunnel to get in and out of their place without being seen. Just give my grandson the password, he'll open up the tunnel for you."

After several moments of silence while Locke waited, he finally ran out of patience. "Okay. So what's the password?"

The old man seemed to have completely forgotten about him. "Eh? Oh, the password. Right. Well, the password is… umm… ah well. Burn me but I've forgotten."

He seemed uninterested and quickly poured himself another tall glass of cider. Shaking his head, Locke went back downstairs to the boy.

"Hey kid," he greeted, "you're grandfather wants you to open that secret tunnel to Caetrin's manor for me."

"Okay, but you need to give me the password," said the boy, "It's either courage, rosebud, or failure. Pick now."

_Bloody Ancients!_

It was a wild guess, but the other two didn't fit so he said, "Courage."

The boy smiled and gave a brief nod, then went to the wall and flipped a hidden switch, opening a section of the wall. It was a very narrow passage, barely enough for one person, and there was no light. Locke kept his hands running against the wall so that he had some sense of movement and direction in the blackness. After a while he saw light, and hustled toward it.

Sunlight streamed down from some kind of grate above his head, with ladder rungs built into the wall. He quickly climbed up. The smell of flowers hit him first of all. Of course! The old man was the gardener, it makes sense that the tunnel would lead to Caetrin's private gardens. Listening carefully for any sign of Imperial patrols, Locke finally pushed the grate open and was out and hiding again in a flash. Just a few steps away was an out-of-the-way servant's entrance and Locke quickly went in.

Despite the many Imperial officers walking about on the ground floor, Locke walked in plain sight with confidence. One thing he had learned long ago. If you look like you have every reason to be there, most people won't doubt it. It just took a bit of pretending to be confident and whole boatload of guts.

As he strolled though the main floor, Locke could see several rooms occupied by officers and tacticians. There was a map of Narshe in one room, and one of Doma in another. What could the Empire be planning for Doma?

Locke climbed the stairs up to the main bedrooms along the balcony overlooking the ballroom. He could hear sobbing coming from one room. Delicately he pushed the door open.

A distinguished-looking man in his middle years was sitting on the bed sobbing into his wife's shoulder. Neither noticed him.

"How could I do it?" he asked her, "I let them in. I betrayed these people, I betrayed this city. I betrayed my king. How can I make this right?"

Locke backed off, moving for the main bedroom. With no one in here, Locke began looking around for the draft, and found it a few minutes later behind one of the bookshelves. Carefully pushed the bookcase away from the wall, Locke squeezed himself into the small doorway that was revealed, then saw the handles on the back of the bookcase, and pulled it back into place.

He found himself at the landing of a very small and narrow spiral staircase, but it was well lighted by several lanterns down to its base. Locke went as quietly as he could, but his footsteps on the metal stairs still seemed too noisy to him. He finally made it to the bottom, and guessed he was a floor or two underground.

Locke continued on his way, following the hallway around. Suddenly he saw a door on the left, but the stout oak door with metal bars looked very new. He peered into the room and gasped.

Two bulky Imperial soldiers were there, but the third occupant was a stunningly beautiful young woman. Long, silky blond hair fell down to her shoulders, and she wore a white jumpsuit with highlights of ice blue and a snowy white cape. Despite her own disheveled appearance, her clothes still looked freshly cleaned. Her pale face was cold and hard, as if she were in competition with a rock.

"Oh burn me," he whispered softly, "I know her. General Celes, one of Gestahl's generals. What is she flaming doing here?"

Suddenly she spat at the large soldier in front of her. The girl had spirit, Locke would certainly give her that.

The soldier retaliated with a brutal backhanded slap that momentarily left Celes limp and hanging upright only by her chains.

"This, _general_," sneered the guard, "is what happens to those who betray our beloved Emperor Gestahl and his dreams for the world. And the mighty, gifted, pampered Celes has fallen to the rank of traitor. No better than Returner scum!"

"How… how can you serve those cowards?" she asked them, her voice weak. Locke was pretty sure she was faking the meekness in her voice too. From the stories he'd heard, General Celes was anything but meek. Her atrocities during Imperial conquests were often ranked up there with Kefka's, sometimes considered worse because to all appearances she was only a young girl.

"Hold your tongue, bitch!" snarled the other guard, "Or maybe you'd like to lose it just a little earlier than we'd planned?"

"But surely you know that the rumors of Kefka planning to poison Doma are true!" she insisted, "How can you sit by while he slaughters an entire city!"

"Shut up!" bellowed the first guard.

He drew his sword, and it was all Locke could do to avoid rushing in there. The soldier then hit Celes over the head with the pommel of his weapon. Her legs collapsed beneath her and her eyes rolled back in their sockets as she passed out. The soldier sheathed his weapon and turned to the other soldier, clearly his subordinate.

"I would flaming hate to be in her shoes when she wakes up tomorrow morning," he said, chuckling darkly, "Keep a close eye on her, and don't let her out of your sight. If you lose her, it's your life."

"Yes sir!" said the younger soldier enthusiastically, "No need to worry about me, I won't sleep a wink. I can go for days before needing sleep."

The larger soldier gave a grunt and nodded, then turned towards the door. Locke fought down a momentary sense of panic, then looked around quickly for a place to hide. The rafters above him would do, he decided. He leapt up, grabbing one and then swung himself so his legs could grab another. Locke just finished settling himself when the soldier strode out of the cell.

He slammed the door shut behind him and walked down the corridor, unaware of anything except what was in front of him. Locke took another look at the door and realized that the force had knocked it open again, leaving it just a little bit ajar.

_Well, I already broke one promise against being a do-gooder today,_ thought Locke with a grimace, _might as well go for two._

Locke gingerly opened the door a little bit more and peeked in. The guard was slumped over in the only chair in the room, his chest rising and falling steadily, snoring noisily. Locke suppressed a chuckle. This would be easier than he thought.

He turned back to Celes, who hung from the chains around her wrists. Shaking his head, Locke pulled out a set of small lockpicking tools and went to work on her shackles. He got the first one off her wrist without a problem, then went on to the second.

Just as he was finishing up, he looked again at Celes' face, and was startled by a pair of ice-cold blue eyes staring holes into him. Locke jumped back as the manacle unlocked. Celes' feet slid underneath her before she could topple over, and a moment later she stood upright, ending up only a few inches shorter than he was. About Terra's height, he would guess.

Locke was mesmerized by those blue eyes that were colder than the snows of Narshe. It made him shudder and take a step back, but he still couldn't tear his eyes away.

"And just who might you be?" she asked, her voice as chilly as her eyes, "A merchant lost in the city's old tunnel system striving to be a hero?"

"Merchant?" echoed Locke, then remembered that he was still wearing the clothes that he had stolen earlier in the day, "Oh, right. Let me get these things off."

He quickly stripped off the tunic and headwrap, replacing the latter with his customary bandanna before removing the merchant's pants.

"I recognized you," he said seriously, "General Celes of the Empire. My name is Locke Cole. I'm with the Returners. I um, I didn't expect you to be awake. I thought that hit on the head knocked you out."

Celes gave him a quick look head-to-toe, evaluating him. She shrugged. "I faked it. Surely you can take worse blows than that and still remain conscious. They were beginning to annoy me. I calculated that the easiest way to get them to shut up was to pretend unconsciousness. I only _used_ to be General Celes Chere. Now I am only a common traitor."

Her voice trailed off at the end, and her gaze sunk to the floor. The first time Locke had seen anything but icy determination from her.

"Well, come on, let's go," Locke said, "the Empire will catch us for sure if we stay in this cell. Makes it that much easier for 'em."

Celes' eyes snapped up from looking at the floor and gazed hard at Locke. "You… you would take me along with you? Knowing who I am and what I've done? Thank you anyway but no. I am a traitor to the Empire. I will have soldiers hunting everywhere for me. Gestahl does not like to lose his little toys. They will stop at nothing to see me returned to prison. Even if you were capable of getting me out of Figaro, you would never be able to protect me from the Empire's wrath. No, I think it would be best for me to remain on my…"

Locke silenced her by putting a finger to her lips. They felt warm, despite her harsh demeanor. Celes' eyes widened. No one had silenced her, especially not as a general.

"Shut up and listen," ordered Locke, "I _will_ protect you. I'm a senior member of the Returners, you don't think the Empire's after me too? Trust me, you'll be safe with me. Now let's get going."

More gently than Locke would have thought possible, Celes reached up and pulled Locke's finger from his lips. She had soft hands, despite being a soldier. Why the hell was his heart beating so bloody fast?

"Wait a moment," she said, "this soldier has something on him. That key. We'll need it to get out."

The large silver key was stuffed carelessly into the soldier's belt. Locke slunk forward, then his hand whipped out with serpentine speed and pulled the key away, but just as suddenly the guard's arm flew up into the air, forcing Locke to jump back and Celes grabbed the man's sword from the ground.

But the guard only mumbled something in his sleep, and soon returned to his slumber. Locke almost laughed, but one look at Celes and his grin vanished. Clearly she didn't see the humor in their situation. She led him out of the cell and began heading to the left.

"This passage will lead us to the rest of the tunnels," she explained, "just through the next room."

Pushing their way into the next room, Locke's eyes lit up as he saw several pouches full of gold and gems, a small fortune was strewn throughout the room.

"Plunder that the officers had kept for themselves," explained Celes.

"Then it's only appropriate this money help overthrow the Empire," agreed Locke.

He saw that the large mechanical clock off to one side of the room had a large keyhole built into the side, and a moment later, realized that the key they had taken from the guard fit perfectly. A quick turn and a section of the wall slid upwards.

"Locke, why did you decide to help me?" asked Celes suddenly, her curiosity mostly hidden by her icy tone.

The young rogue hesitated. Memories were painful.

"You remind me of someone," he said, his voice catching, "It doesn't matter. Look, the fact is that I want to help you. Anything else is unimportant."

The two of them entered the tunnels, which the Imperials had begun to explore, but there were plenty of little monsters all through them. As they approached what Celes told him was the exit, they ran into a group of soldiers.

"Hey, that's General Celes," cried one, "She's escaped! Arrest her!"

Locke leapt forward, leading with his dagger. The first guard stabbed at him, but Locke deftly spun around the man, grabbing a healing potion off the man's belt and then slashed at the leg of the next soldier.

Celes met the first one with a series of rapid swordstrikes, demonstrating amazing skill with the blade. Locke realized she certainly didn't _need_ him when it came to fights, but all the same he went for the other two guards as well. One of them came at Locke, managing to scratch the rogue across his upper arm.

Out of the corner of his eye, Locke could see Celes finish off her soldier just as Locke plunged his dagger into the heart of the man he was fighting.

"Locke!" cried Celes.

He spun around to see the last soldier with his sword raised high. Locke heard something from Celes, and then the soldier cried out.

Suddenly the guard had begun freezing into ice starting from his feet on up. In the span of a few seconds, his entire body had frozen into ice. Breathing heavily, Locke turned to Celes, who had her hand outstretched, a cold look in her eye.

"Are you all right?" she asked him.

"Y–yeah," stammered Locke, "You can use magic?"

She barely glanced at him. "Of course I can. I am a Magitek Knight, after all."

Locke just nodded his head as he followed her. In the short time since the Imperial attack at Narshe he'd now met two magic-wielders. Next thing he knew _everyone_ would flaming be using magic. All this with magic having been a fairy tale for the last thousand years.

A few minutes later they reached a set of stairs, and stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight on the eastern side of the city.

"We must hurry," said Celes, "our luck won't hold out much longer. Sooner or later the soldiers will realize I've escaped and follow us right to this spot."

Locke nodded in agreement. "Then let's get going towards Narshe. We'll take the caves west of here under the Sabil Mountains. Follow me."

The two of them took off at a quick march. Locke wasn't too surprised to realize that Celes, like Terra, could easily keep pace with him despite her smaller stature. During the two nights that they had to make camp before reaching the caves to the Figaro Desert, they shared little in the way of conversation, but luckily they didn't encounter any Imperial patrols.

They finally reached the mountains, and Locke led them straight into the cave, grabbing a torch from one of the many that the Figaran soldiers left at both ends of the caves. Their footsteps echoed in the large caverns as they were forced to face down many subterranean denizens.

"Why are you going to Narshe?" asked Celes suddenly.

It took Locke a minute to form an answer, he hadn't been expecting to talk with her. "I've got friends who were going to go that way for… um… let's just a Returner operation."

"I see. Something to do with the Esper those miners found?" she asked, just the hint of superiority in her voice.

"Maybe," he allowed.

She nodded. "It will not be easy. Kefka is as much obsessed with the Espers as Emperor Gestahl. I know that he was leading an army from the southwest of Figaro Castle around to the north. He wants that Esper and nothing is going to stand in his way. You mission to reach the town is suicidal foolishness."

"Never said it was going to be easy," agreed Locke, "Just about nothing having to do with the Returners is easy. But I need to get back to Terra and help her."

"Who's Terra?"

"She's, um, a Returner," said Locke nervously, still unsure how much to reveal about her, "She used to be an Imperial officer, but she'd been brainwashed by a Slave Crown and…"

"Say no more, I know who you're talking about," said Celes coldly, "and you can be bloody certain that Kefka will be coming for her too. How can you expect to fight his army on your own."

Locke looked around, trying to keep himself properly oriented to get out of these damn caves. "I won't be alone, I'll have all my friends with me. Banon, Terra, Edgar, and even Sabin. You'll fight with us, won't you?"

"You want me to become a Returner?" wondered Celes, but after only a few moments, she nodded stiffly, "I will fight with you to repay you for helping me. I guarantee you my devotion to the Returners."

Locke gave her a beaming smile. Nothing changed on her face, but for a moment he could imagine that Celes' eyes softened.

"Thanks Celes," he said, "and I'll keep my end of our bargain too. I'll protect you. Can I ask you a question? Why did you turn against the Empire, anyway?"

Celes hung her head. "I grew tired of the slaughter of the defenseless," she said quietly, "If I am going to be forced to fight, I would rather it be against those who have either chosen to fight or at least have some skill at fighting. But the deaths of simple villagers has begun to weigh on me in ways I never could have imagined."

Locke suppressed a shudder. He'd heard about some of the atrocities of General Celes, and he knew now that she did in fact have a conscience. Good to know for the future.

They soon came to the final tunnel, and Locke could see the light from the exit. Suddenly though, the whole tunnel began to tremble and vibrate.

"Something's coming out of the wall!" screamed Celes, as she threw them both to the ground.

Something whirred by overhead, then they both scrambled to their feet. In front of them was a mechanical monstrosity. Two tracked wheels supported a massive body with multiple weapon arms. It was very fearsome.

"What the bloody hell is that!" cursed Locke.

"An experimental machine called Tunnel Armor," explained Celes, "It's powered by Magitek but piloted by two people."

She drew her sword and held it out in front of her as though the weapon could shield her from the monstrosity. Locke nearly screamed at her for being a fool. She was going to challenge _that_ thing?

"Locke, listen to me," she ordered, "because it's so bulky, the Tunnel Armor has no attacks other than the use of its magic. I can handle that power. You start tearing it apart. Go on you thief, trust me!"

"Treasure hunter," muttered Locke, but in any case he sprang forward, dagger out and ready, his eyes already targeted on a bundle of cables well away from the weapons.

One of the weapon arms pointed directly at Celes, and bolt of lightning fired from it. Locke wanted to scream for her to get out of the way, but somehow the bolt began to twist in midair. Green runes suddenly seemed to glow on Celes' sword and the lighting shot straight into the weapon.

Now Locke didn't worry about her. Instead, he focused his attentions on the Tunnel Armor's weak points. He slashed the cables that he had first seen, stopping the armor in it's tracks. While he circled around out of range of the weapon arms, he could see them fire several more times at Celes, but each time the runes glowed on her sword and the lighting bolts or gouts of flames twisted around and were absorbed by her blade. In fact, Celes seemed to get more confident and assured with every attack she absorbed.

Locke continued striking at cables and wires, destroying its sensory dish and damaging one of the weapon arms. Locke suddenly saw one weak joint in the armor plates and stabbed his dagger through it.

Immediately, steam began to shoot out of several places. Locke ran and leapt off of the Tunnel Armor and rolled behind a large rock just as the machine exploded.

"Celes!" he yelled as the smoke began to clear. Off to one side, he saw Celes begin to pick herself up from behind a rock. She looked about as battered as he felt.

"You did it," she said with a smile.

"Thanks to you," replied Locke. He breathed a sigh of relief, then coughed as the stench of burning metal and flesh reached his nostrils. Looking at the remains of the Tunnel Armor, he could just make out of the burned forms of the two pilots.

"We'll have to figure something out about Kefka's forces," commented Locke, "We have to slow them down as much as possible. Set traps, take out their logistical lines, whatever we can do to give Narshe as much time as they can get."

Celes gave a slight smile and nodded. "We're not going to help anyone standing around here. We should get going."

With a brief nod, Locke led her out into the grassy plains and foothills of Figaro. Their goal was the next Imperial army.


	9. Chapter 7: Paths of Life and Death

Thanks to everyone kind enough to review, I look forward to more. Riny, you commented about Sabin being very powerful, and yes, I do envision him stronger than most of the others (as my favorite character, I do take a bit of a stretch with him), but also I'm going on more story power than game power. At this point, he's spent years training with the greatest hero of the world, he's stronger and faster than almost everyone else in the group, and he has the Blitz, while Terra and Celes only have a handful of spells. The others will catch up as they learn magic. Also, that was a great idea you gave me with Ultros, I'm now thinking of how to give him some more background story to explain him.

I want to warn everyone that I will be moving in a few weeks, so I may not update for a while. If this happens, don't despair, I will return. For now, keep the reviews coming. Thank you and enjoy.

* * *

Sabin pulled himself out of the river and up onto the grassy bank, coughing and spitting water from his lungs the whole way. He knew he'd been in the process of waking up for a while during his trip down the river, but only a few moments ago had he fully regained consciousness.

He could remember leaping into the water to attack Ultros, and had even managed a few solid blows with a Pummel blitz while underwater, but then the bloody octopus had grabbed him with a pair of tentacles and thrown him up and out. Sabin could remember the cliff wall approaching fast, and then blackness.

As Sabin finished pulling himself out of the water and his coughing fit stopped, he began to laugh heartily. It was always good to find yourself still alive. Now that was a reason to laugh and rejoice.

Still smiling, Sabin pulled himself up into a sitting position and looked around. He was on the edge of a small forest with low foothills farther to the east, and a cottage stood just at the treeline. It might be a good place to find out where he was.

Sabin pushed himself to his feet and walked over toward the cottage. As he got closer, he could see a merchant there watering his chocobo from the well. But it was the other pair of eyes that Sabin concentrated on, a cold stare that followed every step he took.

Sabin stopped a few feet away from the man and took him in. He was only a few inches shorter, clothed all in black, with a reinforced mask over the lower part of his face. Eyes as blue as the deep oceans met the gaze from eyes as gray as cold steel.

"So," said the other man, "you are the renowned Sabin Ironhand, last true master of the mysterious Blitz power."

"And you are the infamous Shadow," countered Sabin, "last surviving ninja of the Kojiro. Some say you slaughtered your entire clan."

The black-clad man shrugged easily. "When death is as much a part of your life as it is a part of mine, you begin forgetting all the lives you've taken. Death is the only constant of existence, so why try to avoid it?"

"With every death, there is new life," countered Sabin.

"And that life will end in its time," agreed Shadow.

But Sabin wasn't about to give up yet. "Life and death are a continuous circle, existence includes both life and death. Without one you can't have the other. It is all a part of the lifestream."

Shadow began to chuckle with dark humor. "So tales of your own wisdom are contradicted by you merely spouting the same drivel as your late master. Nonetheless, you hold your ground with your tongue as skillfully as you are said to be capable of with your fists."

Sabin shook his head. This wasn't getting him any closer to Narshe. "Look, are you on a journey to somewhere? I was separated from my friends on the Lete River. We were on our way to Narshe. Do you know how I can get there from here."

"You can't," said Shadow as he smugly folded his arms over his chest, "the Empire has built a base to the south of us. Their invasion of Doma is already underway. It seems as though they have been planning such an assault for a very long time. Doma Castle is completely under siege by Imperial forces under the command of General Leo."

Sabin wanted to curse, but so many years with Duncan had taught him enough control to avoid that. How long could Doma last? Would he be able to be of some help and still be on the way towards Narshe? He shook his head sadly.

"I should have known that Doma would be next," he said, "after the Empire invaded Narshe and Figaro, the only one who could stand up to the Emperor would be King Gareth of Doma. Shadow, look, I still need to get to Narshe as soon as possible. Do you know the quickest way there?"

"No," answered the ninja, "but I know the _only_ way. Going through Doma is your only hope to reach that frozen town."

Shadow paused for a moment while Sabin let it sink in that the only way to his friends was through the Empire, then the ninja spoke again. "I have been waiting a long time to meet the legendary Blitz master. How I have desired to test myself against someone of your skills."

"I don't fight to test my skills," said Sabin vehemently, "nor do I kill for pleasure."

Shadow's eyebrows rose at that comment. "Perhaps you should try it someday, you might find out that you like it. Your loyalty to your friends is naïve and actually quite foolish. It will no doubt get you killed. However, loyalty can sometimes be admirable. I'll show you the way to Doma. I wouldn't want the last Blitz master to die before I get the chance to challenge him. Just remember, Sabin, I am not beholden to you and especially not to your friends. I may choose to leave at any time, the moment the urge to walk away strikes me."

"I'll watch my back," promised Sabin.

Shadow nodded, then turned and whistled. A large black and brown dog emerged from the treeline. It looked too big to be called a dog, this was more like a ferocious horse!

"Allow me to introduce Interceptor," said Shadow, "the only one who walks my path."

Sabin gave the dog a wide grin and held his hand forward to give Interceptor the chance to become acquainted. Instead the dog snapped at Sabin's hand. The martial arts master didn't flinch. To flinch, he would first have had to be afraid, and Sabin had long since outgrown his fear of animals, even those that could do him harm.

"Impressive," muttered Shadow, "Interceptor will usually bite off a stranger's hand. You escaped with a warning. I wouldn't recommend trying that again, though. Interceptor's patience is shorter than mine. Shall we go?"

Sabin sighed and allowed Shadow to lead him off to the south.

Their journey was mostly quiet, although it was interspersed with periods of conversation. The two men shared dignified tales of their training, and engaged in several contests of skill that continued to escalate in complexity and lethality, until both had taken the measure of the other man, and was impressed. Once they agreed upon a mutual respect for each other, the journey became easier. Sabin explained what he knew of Terra and her travels from Narshe until he was separated from her and others on the Lete River.

Shadow gave no sign of surprise upon learning of Terra's magical power. Sabin grinned. He would have been disappointed if the ninja had given any kind of reaction.

Two days after their meeting, the two men could see the high walls of Doma Castle, and the encampment of the Imperial army. Even though it was the middle of the day, both warriors slipped around and through patrols as if the soldiers were blind. Shadow was as invisible as his namesake, and Sabin had spent years hunting predators with far keener senses.

Shadow led them through the camp, until they were clearly near the command tents. The largest would no doubt be where the officers met and planned their attacks, while both of them realized the next two largest ones would belong to the most senior officers.

"Very strange," muttered Shadow, as he peered over the low wall they were hiding behind. Interceptor was a highly intelligent animal, not having made a single sound since they arrived at the camp.

"What's strange?" asked Sabin.

"This place seems deserted," answered the ninja, "except for the few guards up there, no one is around."

"Let's just count ourselves lucky for the moment, Kojiro," commented Sabin.

"Whatever you say, Ironhand."

The two men had come to start calling each other by their training styles originally as a veiled insult, but over the few days they'd traveled together the names were used more in jest, at least for Sabin. He had no idea what went on in Shadow's head.

"Patrol," whispered Shadow, and both men sank behind the wall as a pair of soldiers came up and leaned right against the other side.

"So, you hear about what that maniac is planning to do?" asked a man's deep voice.

The heavy breathing was lighter and softer, a woman. "You, you mean about the…"

"Shhh!" exclaimed the man, "Don't flaming _dare_ mention it aloud! You know that if General Kefka hears us talking, especially about his plans, he'll burn us into blackened toast."

Sabin momentarily burned at the mention of Kefka's name. He was the man who had led an attack on Figaro. He was the man who had slain Master Duncan. Kefka had much to answer for.

"You know how much Kefka has been maneuvering to drive General Leo out of the battalion," said the girl, "If General Leo is sent back to Vector, or even onto some other campaign, then Kefka will take command of the forces here!"

"Oh don't make me laugh," said the man, "Kefka has about as much knowledge of how to run an army as a fish knows how to fly. The man's completely psychotic. He's useful when you need to slaughter an army, but to take a castle with as little fighting as possible, that's General Leo's job. If Kefka takes over, I'm going to walk away and go home."

"Shut up, burn you!" whispered the girl harshly, and there was a sound as she hit the other soldier's helmet, "What if that demon hears you? Huh! He'll throw you into the stockade! If you're lucky. He may just kill you where you stand."

"All right, all right, I get your point," groaned the man, then he took a sharp breath, "Bloody Ancients, here he comes. Back on station!"

Sabin and Shadow could hear the two soldiers scramble away from the wall, and then the two men peeked over it. The two soldiers now stood about twenty feet farther up, their backs facing the wall. They saw Kefka coming around from the main tent, dressed as garishly as ever. Sabin's heart turned to ice. Despite the frivolous appearance, he knew Kefka was dangerous. He had to be to face down Master Duncan.

"Hey you! Girl!" shrieked Kekfa, his eerie violet eyes staring holes into the young soldier, "I trust that you're keeping a sharp lookout? I would hate to find out than any intruders may have made it past your scrutiny."

"No one's gotten past me, sir," she answered, her voice enthusiastic but trembling, "I can guarantee that no one is getting through our camp. You're General Kefka, correct? How are you, sir? Can I get you anything."

"Please," sneered Kefka, shaking his head, "Save your petty words. Flattery is meaningless. You're nothing but a weapon, so do your job!"

With that, the painted maniac strode away, his back straight and his head high, a clear military swagger in his steps.

The two soldiers turned back to each other as soon as Kefka was out of sight, and both let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Whew, someone needs to put that guy away," commented the man, "He's one scary lunatic. Not at all the kind of leader I'd follow. I'd love to be able to tell him to his face that he's no General Leo."

"Will you shut up!" pleaded the girl, "Don't you know he has a freakish sense of hearing? Why do I always have to keep telling you to keep your voice down? It's hopeless. But, as much as I hate it, I do hate that bloody maniac. I don't even think he's human, not at all like General Leo."

Instead of arguing with her or telling her to be quiet, the other soldier simply nodded in agreement.

Before they could talk any more, the two soldiers were interrupted by another visitor.

"Commander Sharnt!" cried the man.

The commander was a massively built man, dressed in a standard Imperial uniform but in a deep midnight blue. An enormous battleaxe was in his left hand, a tower shield strapped to his arm while he carried his helmet in his other hand. The gleam of a freshly polished iron breastplate shone beneath his uniform.

"We're about to storm Doma Castle," he said to them, his voice rough, "and the two of you have been reassigned to the main assault company. Follow me to your positions."

Sabin watched them go with a heavy heart. It was obvious that Kefka _had_ heard them after all. That was why they'd been reassigned. They would probably die in the first charge. Sabin wanted to do something, he heart yearned to warn them, but he could do nothing without revealing their hidden position.

Shadow watched him with those pitiless gray eyes.

"We dare not make a move while the battle is taking place," he said softly, "we must wait either until the Empire is driven off or Doma falls. Either way we are going to have to stay here for a while."

Sabin nodded slowly. "You take a quick rest break. I'll take the first watch."

* * *

The Imperial forces had been laying siege to Doma Castle for nearly a week, and this was their third assault upon the castle's ramparts. Twice the brave knights of Doma had driven back the invaders, but at great cost. Nearly half of Doma's knights had died in the previous attacks, and they were still vastly outnumbered.

The soldiers of the Empire charged forward in tightly packed ranks at their commander's order. The Doman archers opened fire, mowing down the first few ranks of Imperials, but then suits of Magitek armor appeared. Beams of incinerating heat and explosive lightning pounded the ancient stone walls of Doma.

The Domans had been fortunate about that; on the first assault they'd laid a trap for the Magitek troopers and wiped out four-in-five the powerful armored units.

Imperial troops began placing their ladders against the walls, and as they reached the rooftops, the knights met them with unmatched swordplay, for it was said none could match Doman swordsmanship.

Despite their overwhelming numbers, the smaller but more skilled Doman forces managed to be holding the Imperials at bay for the third time this week. Commander Sharnt was enraged. No one had ever stood against the might of the Empire for this long. He knew of his adversary in this conflict, the Retainer to the king of Doma. Sir Cyan Garamonde, an old veteran who had seen the end of the Urthmen War and countless smaller conflicts since. He had been warned that this was a worthy opponent, but as he watched the assault, Sharnt grinned maliciously.

The Domans could only last so much longer. They couldn't hold out for the rest of this assault. They would fall… and they would fall _today!_

* * *

Within the bowels of Doma Castle, two of King Gareth's knight-commanders stood talking earnestly.

"It's hopeless," said one of them, "we don't have enough knights to cover all the points the Empire is striking at. They're beginning to overwhelm the outer guards."

"So, this is it," agreed the other, "It's finally happening. Doma will either have to surrender for the first time in history, or it will fall."

"Just a moment, sirs!" called a new voice, and both of the knight-commanders turned to the newcomer with a rekindled sense of hope.

The middle-aged man before them was tall, decked in his heavy battle armor, wearing the light blue-green or cyan and maroon colors of Doma. He had a thick shock of black hair pulled into a loose ponytail and a thick black moustache above his lip. His face held a cheerful smile, as though Doma had already achieved victory and all that was needed now was the feast. Sir Cyan was the Retainer of Doma, as he had been for the last 30 years, and had triumphed over odds worse than this.

"I shalt have the honor of slaying thine foes and dispatching them from out land," he said, his speech heavy with words from the Elder tongue, "If thou commander can be defeated, they shalt surely flee the battlefield."

The knight-commanders shared a proud look. Doma could _never_ fall so long as Sir Cyan defended it. The older man continued to give orders.

"Assemble thy best swordsmen," he told them, "We shalt meet thou Empire on thy own ground."

Ten minutes later the two knight-commanders met Cyan near the main gate with more than fifty other knights. Cyan nodded to the engineers, and they raised the gate.

"Doma eterna!" shouted Cyan, sword above his head.

"Doma eterna!" echoed the knights behind him.

With one massive charge, Cyan led the knights of Doma like a spearhead into the heart of the Imperial ranks. Caught unprepared with the knights cutting their way to a single point, there was no chance that the Imperials could have stopped them from getting to their goal. Cyan was a maelstrom, his sword cutting in every direction, dispatching his enemies with skills honed from nearly 40 years of defending Doma.

The Domans quickly cut their way through until Cyan spotted the Imperial commander in his distinctive blue uniform. His sword flashed out in an aggressive attack, leaving the Imperial commander, a man named Sharnt, Cyan knew, to defend with his shield as best he could.

Sharnt tried to retaliate, but his massive axe was too slow and too clumsy for Cyan's precise swordsmanship. More than once Sharnt opened himself wide, and Cyan did not hesitate to strike. To Cyan, all that mattered was the preservation of Doma, pity and mercy came after that.

With a final massive stroke, Cyan plunged his blade through Sharnt, piercing armor, flesh, and tissue. The veteran knight felt the Imperial begin to go slack in his grip, and then Cyan tore his blade free, spun around and hewed Sharnt's head.

There was a moment of complete, terrified silence as the Imperials watched their commander's headless body fall to the ground. Then they were in complete pandemonium as they fled, not even bothering to take swipes at the Doman knights in their midst.

Cyan turned to the cheering knights behind him, then raised his sword as they all shouted triumphantly in one voice: "DOMA ETERNA!"

* * *

Sabin had woken Shadow only a few minutes earlier, and they watched as the bruised and battered Imperial soldiers limped back to their own tents or towards the medical tent. Had they not been the aggressors, Sabin might have felt sorry for them.

"Come on, Shadow," he urged, "now's our chance. No one will notice us in this chaos."

"Sabin, wait!" whispered Shadow fiercely as he grabbed Sabin's arm and pulled him back down.

"What?"

But Shadow didn't answer. Instead he peered straight ahead, and Sabin followed his gaze. What held Shadow's attention was a single man, tall and with a regal bearing. His pale blond hair was concentrated in a single strip down the center of his head, the rest was shaved off. He wore a simple blue tunic and pants, with a sleeveless green cloak hanging open. He almost seemed to have a smile on his face.

"Well well," said the man, "so Doma survives yet again. I have to give credit to you, Sir Cyan, you are a most worthy adversary."

"General Leo!" cried an aide, "Our scouts are already returning. The Domans have agreed to signal us when a small force can go to collect our dead. But it seems as though they are merely fortifying their positions within the castle. They're just playing a waiting game."

Leo nodded slowly. "Hmm, so that's your strategy Cyan? I'm surprised, no counterstroke. Ahh, but that's not your style. Honorable, but foolish, my adversary."

"General, the returning soldiers insist that Doma would have fallen but for one man, and he can't hold the castle by himself forever!" insisted the aide, "Just give us the order, sir, and the men will willingly turn back around…"

"Have patience," said Leo calmly, a contented smile on his lips, "if we attack now, with the Domans already refortifying, even a victory will end up sacrificing too many lives needlessly."

Sabin and Shadow looked at each other and nodded briefly. This General Leo was every bit as noble as the stories said he was, a dramatic counterpart to the insanity of Kefka and the bloodthirstiness of Celes.

"But Lord General, I am willing to lay down my life for the glory of the Empire!" insisted the aide, "So is every single other soldier here! We follow Emperor Gestahl's vision of the future, and if it requires our blood and our lives to bring about that vision then we're willing to give our lives!"

Leo said nothing, only looked at the man out of the corner of his eye. "You're from Maranda, aren't you?"

The aide was momentarily stunned. "Y-yes sir."

Leo nodded. "A truly beautiful city, Maranda. I've had the pleasure to visit it during the spring, when the flowers are blooming. It reminds me that there is a reason for war. So that beautiful places like Maranda can remain safe. Your family is all there as well, if I'm not mistaken. Should you fall in battle, I would have to deliver the sad news to them. As it is, I regret every letter I must send to families whose sons and daughters and fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters gave their lives when it was needed. How much worse do you think it would be if I had to write that same letter to a family whose son had died needlessly? What could I say to them to help ease the pain? You have a life that you will return to someday. War is nothing without peace to return to. Don't throw that away on a whim. That's not what Emperor Gestahl wants. That's not what _I_ want."

The soldier nodded proudly. "Yes sir. I understand you."

As General Leo continued to peer at Doma Castle, another soldier ran up with a rolled up bit of paper.

"General Leo! A carrier pigeon just delivered this message from Emperor Gestahl."

Leo took the letter, then turned away from his aide to read it privately. Sabin and Shadow could see his shoulders fall before he turned back to his comrade.

"I have been summoned back to Vector by Emperor Gestahl," explained Leo, "I am to leave immediately."

The aide looked just as crestfallen as General Leo did. "Yes sir, I understand."

Leo looked deep into his comrade's eyes and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Captain, I am promoting you to this force's commander. I leave the siege of Doma in your hands. But please, whatever you do, don't be hasty. This campaign can be won with very little more bloodshed. Be patient, and victory will come to you."

"Yes General, just leave it to me sir!" replied the soldier enthusiastically.

Sabin and Shadow watched as Leo disappeared into one of the smaller tents to prepare for his departure.

"So, that's General Leo, huh?" muttered Sabin, "He would be a valuable friend and ally, if he wasn't already our enemy."

"He is a man of honor," agreed Shadow.

The two of them began to sneak forward, keeping themselves hidden behind boxes of supplies and machinery powering the base. Suddenly a peal of high-pitched laughter reached them. Shadow pulled Sabin into a nearby tent that was, thankfully, unoccupied while they turned to look outside.

Kefka swaggered by, the look on his face was that of triumph.

"Now that Leo, that bloody idiot is going to be gone, I'll finally end this pathetic fight and turn this water into a flowing river of poison!" he cheered to himself, and then began to cackle madly.

Kefka let his laughter die down as Leo rode up to him on a chocobo. The general's regal bearing seemed to make Kefka shrink backwards.

"You've heard that the Emperor has summoned me home," said Leo, "I am to meet our gambler friend along the southern coast. I intend to find out what the Emperor wants with me and return here as soon as possible. Do _not_ do anything foolish. Do you hear me, Kefka? I want no trouble here."

Kefka merely snickered. "You're the fool. You've had a week to eradicate these Doman fools and couldn't do it. I'll take care of this situation in no time!"

Leo nudged his mount a little closer until he towered over Kefka. "Don't be a pompous ass! You are not in charge of these forces, I've left that to someone else. And no matter what, you should never forget that the Domans are people, just like you and me, and they deserve proper respect from us."

"There should be no reason to spare these filthy, pathetic lands that gave rise to the Returners, or continue to support them!" spat Kefka.

Seeing that he could do no more, Leo sighed and shook his head, urging his mount off to the south.

"Hehehehe," chuckled Kefka menacingly, "That's right. You just go and be a good little boy for his Imperial worship. Run home. By the time you return, there'll be nothing to return to."

At that point, Sabin and Shadow saw the aide that Leo had been speaking to. He approached Kefka, carrying a small clear barrel that was filled with some kind of glowing violet liquid.

Kefka looked at the man with an evil smile plastered onto that pale face. "So, is the poison ready? Finally!"

"Yes sir, but… but you know that General Leo said…"

"Idiot! Leo is no longer here! That means I'm in charge of this army!" squealed Kefka, "That means you follow _my_ bloody orders!"

"But sir!"

"_Pour it!_"

But the soldier wasn't ready to give up. "But sir, we have some of our own soldiers held as prisoners within the castle! If we poison their water supply then they'll…"

Kefka got right up into the man's face, towering over him, his aura of pure maniacal evil overwhelming the young man.

"Pour it. Exterminate everyone. Kill. Them. All."

Sabin could bear it no longer. His long years of training with Master Duncan had instilled in him a love for all life and the need to protect it. He could stand aside when it came to a genuine battle, but this… this _crime_ could not go unpunished!

"Kefka!" he cried out, "Stop!"

The clown turned to him, as though he expected Sabin to be there. "Shut up! You're nothing but history!"

But Sabin leapt into the air, then spun and delivered a ferocious back kick that sent Kefka hurtling through the air. As Shadow emerged from the tent, he hurled a pair of small, razor-sharp disks known as shuriken into the back of the soldier with the poison. The barrel fell from the man's hands and rolled for a few feet before coming to a stop.

Kefka was already throwing himself back at Sabin, his sword swinging madly, but Sabin dodged, blocked, and sidestepped every attack. Sabin focused for a moment, then lunged in with a series of strikes, ten, twenty blows to Kefka's stomach, blows he could neither block nor imagine could inflict worse pain.

He threw another punch, but Sabin grabbed him into an arm lock, then twisted around to expose Kefka's ribs, and solidly planted his knee into the lower ribs. He could feel at least two shatter under the blow, and was rewarded with a squeal of pain from Kefka.

Somehow the clown managed to disentangled himself from Sabin as Shadow was preparing to hurl another set of shuriken. But this time, lightning crackled across Kefka's palm and he pointed at the ninja. A bolt of blue-white energy burst forth and struck Shadow in his shoulder. The ninja spun around but managed to sink only to one knee before beginning to rise again.

Kefka started to take off towards the poison.

"Kefka! Wait!" yelled Sabin.

"Wait, he says!" jeered Kefka, "Do I look like a waiter!"

Just as the madman reached the poison, he halted and reversed himself, lunging at Sabin with a devastating punch. The blow connected on Sabin's chin and began to spin him around. But Sabin had been well-trained. He let the blow spin him around, and used that momentum plus his own to continue spinning and throw a powerful kick that hit Kefka across the cheek, sending him spinning to the ground.

Shadow was racing for the poison to keep it out of Imperial hands, but Kefka spotted him and laughed, then fired another bolt of lightning from his hands. This time the bolt caught Shadow squarely in the chest and sent him flying backwards.

As Sabin saw him land, he could tell the ninja's chest was smoking and he wasn't breathing.

Without hesitation, Sabin turned away from Kefka and ran towards Shadow. He saw Kefka grab the poison barrel and take off, but as Sabin reached Shadow he pulled out one of their precious fenix down potions. He lifted the small flap in the ninja's facemask through which he could eat and drink without removing the mask and poured the potion down his throat.

Shadow immediately began coughing and sputtering as he sat up. The ninja looked around and saw that Kefka had gone with the poison. He looked up at Sabin, confusion in his gray eyes.

"Why? I don't understand," he said in amazement, "You could have stopped Kefka for good. Why come back for me?"

Sabin took a deep breath. "You can have twenty chances to kill an enemy, but you only get _one_ chance to save a friend. You stay put and try to figure out a way for us to get out of here. I'm going after Kefka."

The martial arts master took off without another word. A dozen soldiers appeared in his path, but he didn't even slow down. He had a madman to stop and a castle full of people to save.

* * *

Kefka was cackling madly. At the point he was dumping the poison into the river, it would be a lethal amount by the time it reached Doma. It was just unfortunate that it would dissipate soon after that. No one else would die from this stuff. Perhaps it could be enhanced in the labs?

"Nothing matches the sound of hundreds of voices screaming in unison!" he murmured gleefully.

The water around where he was pouring bubbled and churned, and the water downriver took on a glassy sheen. The Doman fools would never realize anything was wrong until it was too late.

* * *

Cyan stood on one of the castle's higher inner ramparts, watching the Imperial camp less than two miles away. His eyes roamed down towards the field in front of the castle. Doma had taken some equipment they'd found on the battlefield and taken away the handful of their dead, but the Imperials still hadn't come to collect their own dead. He wondered why.

As his eyes roamed back towards the Imperial camp, they lingered for a moment on the river. For some reason the water had an eerie shine.

"Sir Cyan!" greeted one of the knight-commanders, "The Imperial base is bustling with activity. Our scouts say that something is going on, but they can't be certain. I think they're up to something, maybe trying to distract us."

"Perhaps they are," agreed Cyan, who then wiped his brow, "Burn this heat! I trust thy knights are drinking water and not partaking in an afternoon ale?"

The knight-commander smiled. "I relayed you specific orders, Sir Cyan. You should have something to drink as well. You'll do us no good if you die of thirst."

"I shalt drink later," he answered, "What art thou Imperials planning? Have you noticed the river? Thou water appears odd."

Suddenly a scream pierced the silence, and Cyan's head whipped to the side, where one of the knights collapsed where he stood. He was soon followed by countless other screams as the men simply began collapsing and falling over the ramparts to the ground. Soon the dead were everywhere, and that's when Cyan noticed something. All of them had wood or metal goblets nearby.

"Sir Cyan!" cried the knight-commander, terrified that the legendary Retainer would fall victim.

"This… this art _poison!_" roared Cyan.

The knight-commander suddenly stiffened in shock, as though he couldn't believe it. "How could the Empire do something so low, so contemptible…"

"The king!" cried Cyan, "We must protect our liege lord!"

Cyan raced ahead of his compatriot, easily outpacing him even though he was several years older. As the two men sped through the castle, Cyan's heart broke as he watched everyone succumbing to the Empire's poison. People that had been his friends and countrymen for five, ten, or more years were falling to the floor in droves. Finally Cyan made it to the throne room and threw the doors open.

"Your majesty!" he cried.

"What?" asked the king quietly, his eyes seemingly blank. It must have been the screams of the dying had disturbed him.

"My liege, fear not," Cyan assured him, "We shalt protect you from the Empire's treachery. Thou must escape the castle."

"Who is it that speaks to me?" asked King Gareth slowly, "I cannot know anymore."

Cyan swallowed hard, trying to ignore the fact that his heart rate had just doubled. "It is I, majesty. Sir Cyan, thy loyal retainer."

"Indeed Cyan?" said the king wonderingly, "I did not know. My sight has left me, I can see nothing, and my strength…"

King Gareth's eyes clouded over, and from his hands fell a gem-encrusted gold goblet. Glassy water spilled from it as the king moaned and began to fall. Cyan was there in an instant to catch him.

"Your majesty, no! Thou _must_ hold on!" insisted Cyan.

"Cyan," breathed the king, "my time in the world ends today. You have defended this realm with the utmost honor since the days of my father. I thank you for all you have given to me in life. All is over now… our kingdom shall lie in ruin."

"No!" roared Cyan, "Not yet!"

"My friend, I fear for your family," continued the king as his eyes slid closed, "You must… go to them. Remember… our kingdom. Doma eterna."

With that last breath, all life left King Gareth. Cyan knelt over his body, paralyzed with shock. A million thoughts and doubts clouded his mind. Could he abandon his lord? What of his family? Would the Empire attack the defenseless castle soon or would they not bother?

He turned to the knight-commander.

"Guard our liege," he ordered, "Be certain that thee receives a funeral worthy of his honor."

As the younger man nodded, Cyan fairly flew from the throne room, racing for his own quarters. It was all he could do keep blinking tears from his eyes. His friends, his king… if anything had happened to his family…

He burst through the doors, seeing nothing. Hope suddenly rose in his heart. Perhaps Elayne had gone to the gardens, she always loved an afternoon walk.

Cyan continued into the room, going to his and Elayne's bedroom, and his heart froze. Elayne lay on the floor, her mane of golden hair spilling out around her, her face set into a mask of pain, fear, and shock. One hand was stretched towards the bed. Cyan slowly made his way to her, unable to believe that the woman he had loved for more than twenty years was gone forever.

"Elayne?" he whispered, "Please… I beg thee. Thou cannot be gone. Without thee I have no reason to live. This… this cannot be happening!"

But he knew in his heart that his beautiful wife would never wake again. He would never see her laugh again, never again hold her in his arms. But Cyan still had some hope, where was Owain?

Cyan looked again at his wife's outstretched arm. With his throat tight, he pulled back the covers to reveal a small boy about twelve years of age, with the same golden-blond hair of his mother.

He tried to speak, but it came out only as a whisper. "Owain…"

Suddenly rage filled the void where grief had been only a moment before.

"Not you too!" he screamed into the castle's silence, "You both cannot leave me! Thou Empire _must_ pay!"

His vision blurred red and tearful, Cyan gripped his blade and rushed from Doma Castle, seeking as many Imperial soldiers as he could find.

* * *

Sabin struggled to push his way forward, but he was held by nearly a dozen Imperial soldiers. Despite that, they still did not have the strength to stop him. Sabin pushed his way onwards, step by step. He had lost sight of Kefka long ago, but he would continue on his way to Doma Castle. Perhaps he would be able to prevent the atrocity Kefka planned on inflicting.

Suddenly a black and brown shape tore down two of the soldiers holding Sabin, and he could hear growling and screams. Just as quickly, two more fell off him. Delving deep into himself, Sabin summoned the power of the Blitz, pulling it into his muscles, and with a mighty heave, sent the other soldiers flying off him.

A moment later, Shadow was standing next to him, throwing another pair of his shuriken.

"I thought I told you to find a way to escape this place," said Sabin.

Shadow shrugged easily. "I never was one for taking orders. Besides, Interceptor over there seemed to think that you were worth saving. One of his less intelligent decisions, I fear."

"Hard to believe I agree more with a dog than with you, Kojiro," replied Sabin, grinning.

Together, the two men and Interceptor raced towards the castle, until they finally came to the outer moat, where they saw a strange sight. A man in his middle years was engaged in swordfight against a half-dozen soldiers, and he was winning!

Sabin leapt into the fight, firing an aurabolt that disintegrated the right side of a soldier's body, and then pair of rapid kicks knocked two others to the ground. Shadow's blade slid neatly into two other soldiers, who fell silently.

"Hey, is this a private fight, or can anybody join in?" asked Sabin.

"If thou art enemies of thou Empire, then we art friends," answered the man, "I am Cyan Garamonde, Retainer to the King of Doma. My people…"

"Then Kefka's poisoned them already!" cried Sabin.

"You knew!" roared Cyan.

"Calm yourself," said Shadow placidly, "He's been fighting through the entire Imperial army to try and warn you. He did not hesitate to place himself in danger for _your_ people. I think that makes him a fool, but I have no idea what you would consider him."

"Who art thou, stranger?"

"I am Sabin, and this is Shadow," answered the martial artist.

Shadow turned and looked around the other way. "There's more soldiers on the way. We should be on our way out of here, Ironhand."

"Ironhand!" cried Cyan, "As in Master _Duncan_ Ironhand? Sabin Ironhand?"

"No," said Sabin with a shake of his head, "Sabin Figaro. I was trained by Master Duncan. We can talk about this later. Let's move!"

The three men turned and ran as fast as they could for the edge of the Imperial camp. They fought their way through dozens of soldiers, until they found themselves back near the command tents.

"Sir Sabin," said Cyan, "if we continue like this, we shalt be too exhausted to escape to safety."

Sabin looked around, scanning for some way for the three of them to make an escape. Off to one side, he saw a trio of suits of Magitek armor standing idle. An idea began to form. He quickly led the other two over and tossed them a grin.

"Hurry! Get in!" he ordered.

Shadow picked up on his thoughts instantly and jumped into the cockpit of the Magitek suit, but Cyan hesitated.

"Sir Sabin, how might these machines be manipulated?" asked the knight.

"Boy, I'm getting sick of this," growled Sabin, "Thou art such a pain in the… burn me! Now I'm beginning to talk like you! Just use the controls, figure it out and let's get out of here!"

The three men took control of the Magitek suits and moved towards the exit. At one point, after he had gotten used to the controls, Cyan felt nearly invincible in the armor, and began mowing through every soldier that sought to oppose them. Unfortunately, these suits had been heavily damaged, and did not have the power to get them much beyond the outskirts of the camp.

They left the Magitek suits and continued on foot towards the south. During their trek, Sabin explained to Cyan his joining the Returners, as well as about Terra, Locke, and Edgar, doubtless already safe in Narshe. Having nothing left to fight for in Doma, Cyan expressed his desire to join Sabin and meet up with the rest of the Returners.

Together, the three warriors made their way to the Phantom Forest south of Doma, on their path to Barren Falls.


	10. Chapter 8: Phantom's Pain

HE LIVES! I apologize to everyone for the great length of time it has taken for me to get up another chapter of this story. I moved pretty much across the country and it's taken a while to adjust. If anyone is still reading this, thank you very much. I hope this chapter continues to live up to my previous work. Once again, thank you and enjoy.

* * *

The Phantom Forest was a forest one might find in a child's nightmares. The trees were so thick that they seemed to block all sunlight, letting only a dull glimmer reach the woodland floor. Swamps and marshes kept the ground sodden, and the branches of trees hung low with moisture. The air was thick and cloying, plastering their hair to the scalps and making their clothes stick to their skin.

The three men moved along a faint path through the forest. Over the course of four hours, they realized that the path led back to its starting point, so the three of them had been going in circles for a long time.

Finally, about midway through the path, Sabin spotted the remains of another trail and led the others in this new direction.

The pale trees seemed to part suddenly for the trio, revealing a long, stone platform. Candleposts that seemed to have been made over a century earlier stood every so often, the glass shattered and hanging with cobwebs. But most amazing of all was the train that stood before them. Decrepit and falling apart in many places, it still was able to retain the sense of majesty that it had originally been viewed with.

"By the Ancients," whispered Sabin. He pushed a lock of his golden hair away from his eyes. This was too weird.

"By what manner is this train here?" wondered Cyan, looking up and down the length of it in awe, "I hath thought the railway of Doma destroyed for many long years."

"Maybe there are still some people alive in this thing," said Sabin, "Come on, let's take a look."

The martial artist pushed ahead of Cyan and began to look for a way to board. A few cars up there was a gap in the railbars. Sabin turned to look behind him. Cyan was continuing to look around wildly, his face a mixture of suspicion and awe. Behind the elder knight, Shadow leaned against the low stone wall, Interceptor pacing next to him. The ninja's gray eyes revealed nothing about what he was thinking.

"Hey, come on, we can get in right here," he called to the other two. Sabin hopped over the railing and pushed the door to the entrance to the car open.

"Sir Sabin!" called Cyan.

Sabin turned to the older man and spoke quickly. "We can't just wander about out here all day, Cyan. We have to get on board."

"But Sir Sabin," he persisted.

"Don't worry about it," said the young fighter with a wink, "trust me."

Without another word, Sabin pushed through the door and entered the train car. Silently, Shadow and Interceptor followed. The ninja gave Cyan a disdainful glance as he entered.

"Sir Sabin! Young, reckless fools," cursed Cyan as he drew his sword. He leapt over the railing and went in.

Sabin pushed through the cobwebs and into the main part of the car. Lamps on the walls seemed to give off a pale, ethereal light. The seats and other furniture seemed mostly intact, though the smell was old and musty. Every once in a while, Sabin thought he saw a ghostly shape move.

"What in the world?" he said to himself.

A moment later Shadow and Cyan entered, the latter was extremely agitated.

"Sir Sabin, we must get off!" he cried, "This train is haunted!"

"You worry so much, you old fool," commented Shadow.

Suddenly, the train jerked, and the three men could feel it beginning to move.

"How the hell is this thing moving?" wondered Sabin.

"We must get off now!" insisted Cyan, "If we don't…"

But Shadow was already moving to the door. It was closed. That was odd, the ninja thought, he was sure they'd left the door open. He tried pulling the handle; it wouldn't budge.

Sabin came up next to him, and Shadow nearly lost his nerve, though not a trace came through his voice. "The door's stuck."

The powerfully built fighter pushed his way forward and grasped the door with both hands, pulling and pushing with all his might. After a minute of effort, he gave up.

"It's no use," he said to the other two, "the door won't open at all."

"Then we art… too late," said Cyan quietly.

Sabin walked up to the older man. "Cyan. What is going on here? Huh? What is with this accursed train?"

Cyan's eyes were sad as he looked at his two compatriots. "This is… the Phantom Train. It carries the departed to… to… to the other side."

"What!" cried Sabin, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head, "Wait a second, we can't go there!"

"We all have to go," replied Cyan, his voice heavy, "eventually."

Sabin turned to Shadow, but the ninja's eyes were expressionless. And the simple shrug of his shoulders did nothing to ease Sabin's nerves.

"We can't go there," Sabin said again, "Not now, anyway. We still have far too much to do here. We have to stop this thing."

"And how do you propose we go about doing that?" inquired Shadow, smirking behind his mask, "We are on a ghost train, if you haven't noticed."

"All trains have an engine. We should make our way there. Let's move," he ordered.

The three men moved forward through the car. Both Cyan and Shadow had their weapons in hand, although neither was certain whether they would have any effect on the spirits of the departed. Sabin directed his thoughts inward, focusing his spiritual energy. Duncan had taught him how to take that energy and direct it in a beam of power. Sabin was certain that this Blitz, the aurabolt, would be his most effective weapon here.

Behind them Interceptor began barking wildly. The men spun about as a trio of ghosts swooped down out of nowhere. They seemed to all be men armed with staves, ghostly rags floating in the air about them.

Shadow wasted no time and tossed a pair of shuriken at the nearest ghost. Part of him wasn't surprised that the weapons passed through the being and imbedded themselves in the ceiling, but he _was_ surprised when the ghost seemed to moan in pain and began to dissipate.

"We can hurt them!" the ninja cried jubilantly.

Cyan leapt forward, his blade out and ready. "Back creature! Return to the depths of thy dead realm!"

He struck with all his might, dispatching the creature with a single blow.

Sabin was ready, and he stepped forward just as the last ghost was about to strike at Shadow. The martial artist threw his palms out before his body and released the power of his own spirit. A beam of pure, healthy white light shot forth from his hands and struck the ghost. Behind the creature, the beam struck the wall and blew a portion of it out, while the ghost gave an unearthly scream and dissipated into nothingness.

The three men were each breathing hard. The courage to fight mortals and the creatures of the world all three had, but to face beings who had died long ago required a completely different kind of courage. As they looked from one to another, they knew that this courage was within them, and the ghosts of this train would hold no special terror over their hearts.

Sabin turned around, breathing a deep sigh before getting ready to move forward. Suddenly another ghost swooped down out of nowhere and hovered in front of him.

Cyan turned and saw the young warrior staring face-to-face with another ghost. "I hath already had enough of thou spirit! Return to thy death!" He charged forward, his sword raised high.

"Wait, Cyan!" cried Sabin. He dove and tackled the older knight, then immediately sprang to his feet.

"Sir Sabin, what madness hath passed through thy mind!" demanded Cyan angrily as he stood up.

"This ghost," said Sabin slowly, approaching the creature, "I don't think it means us any harm."

The spirit seemed to be clothed in the tattered remnants of Doman armor. In its pale hands was a spear, with the banner of Doma hanging from near the tip.

"I think it wants to help us," said Sabin, the amazement clear in his voice.

The ghost nodded gently. Even though its face was pitted with missing skin, a kind of smile seemed appear in its face as it held the spear above his head.

"Sir Sabin, you should be wary of this creature of death," warned Cyan, "what can it gain by aiding us?"

"Redemption, perhaps," whispered Shadow as he walked past the two warriors. He nodded in greeting as he passed the ghost, who in turn gave a slight bow. The spirit turned to follow the ninja, spear held at the ready.

"I do not trust this abomination," argued Cyan.

"We may need its help," countered Sabin, "so I'm sorry, but at the moment the vote is three to one against you. It comes with us."

"Three to one?"

Sabin grinned. "Sure, you don't think the ghost's vote wouldn't count too, did you?"

The martial artist turned and began moving forward. Cyan shook his head at the madness of it all and quickly followed. The two of them quickly caught up with Shadow and the others at the end of the car.

"Thought I was going to have to leave you behind," commented Shadow, his eyes sparkling with dark humor. Sabin chuckled but Cyan remained silent, glowering at the ghost hovering next to them. Shadow pushed the door open and stepped out.

The train was traveling quickly, as the trees passed by quickly. They all knew it could go faster, so why wasn't it?

"The dead are in no hurry to get anywhere," was Shadow's mocking answer.

The three men, one dog, and one ghost crossed the connector over to the next car and pushed their way inside. Quickly, the ghost flew in front of them and beckoned them forward. This car was nearly identical to the last. But the ghost led them to a table. Translucent, swirling mists covered the table, but after a few moments, the mist coalesced in to seemingly solid objects.

"What manner of sorcery is this?" wondered Cyan.

"Potions," gasped Sabin, a huge grin on his face, "healing potions, antidotes…"

"Enchanted eyedrops for curing blindness," added Shadow.

Sabin reached forward and grabbed a handful of the potion jars. Suddenly, a ethereal hand wrapped itself around his wrist. Jerking back, he saw it was another ghost. This one was dressed in the rags of what once must have been expensive robes.

"What wouldst appease this creature?" wondered Cyan.

The ghost extended a pale, fleshless hand. The image of a gold coin appeared and dropped into his hand, then vanished.

Sabin almost laughed. "It wants money. Even in death, this greedy merchant wants our gold for his wares."

"This is ridiculous," hissed Shadow, "let's just cut it apart and take what we need, Ironhand."

"Nay, Sir Shadow," countered Cyan, "abomination of nature thou creature might be, we must still deal honorably with it."

The three men continued to look over the goods, selecting mostly healing potions, though a few looked like a powerful potion called fenix down, capable of reviving those most grievously injured, or even those who had died within the past minute or so. It wouldn't heal most of their wounds, but it would keep them in this world.

After they had selected, they were forced to pay the ghost. They were all somewhat surprised when they paid about the same as they would have in any ordinary town. With a smirk, the merchant ghost vanished from sight, and the items on the table vanished back into the swirling mist.

"Come on, we have to keep going," said Sabin.

The three fighters quickly made their way through the car, then crossed into the next one. This car was far dimmer than the others, and they were especially on guard. A light crackling sound began to emerge from before them.

"Does anybody else hear that?" asked Sabin.

"Indeed, Sir Sabin," agreed Cyan, "stay alert."

Suddenly, they reached the end of the car, and were met with a blank wall.

"A dead end?" wondered Sabin.

Shadow shook his head. "No. The car had a walkway along the outside. We simply came in. We should go outside and around the car in order to move forward."

Sabin turned around, back the way they had come. Something felt very wrong. He began to focus his spirit for an aurabolt.

A screeching sound suddenly accompanied the crackling sound and a group of creatures charged out of nothingness. Two small, squat creatures in some kind of violet robes along with a trio of ghostly soldiers came straight at the group, while behind them, a grotesque skeletal creature seemingly encased in blue flames gave a screeching laugh.

Sabin let loose with his spiritual power, annihilating one of the small creatures. However, one of the undead soldiers managed to slice his arm with a ghostly sword. Another soldier came striking towards Shadow, but suddenly Interceptor's jaws were around the ghost's wrist. The powerful dog threw the ghost to the ground and began tearing it apart until it dissipated. Grinning behind his mask, Shadow launched a set of shuriken at the other short creature, and it screamed as it returned to the realm of the dead.

Cyan was struck by the other soldier, and as he backed up to get some room he fell over a table, landing flat on his back. The soldier hovered over him, its blade raised high. Suddenly, a ghostly spear passed over Cyan and struck the soldier in the center of its chest. Looking over his shoulder, Cyan saw the Doman ghost that had been with them, and then he turned back his attention to the soldier. The knight sprang to his feet and thrust his blade next to the spear, watching with satisfaction as the creature dissipated.

Out of nowhere a jet of flames erupted and struck the Doman ghost full on. Cyan and Shadow both charged the culprit; the forgotten skeleton.

"I curse thee to hell!" screamed Cyan as he struck. The blade cleaved through the rib bones as Shadow's knife followed suit.

Behind them, Sabin struck at the ghost soldier with a rapid flurry of blows, grinning as it vanished. He saw the skeleton threatening his friends, and he called upon his spirit once again.

"Guys, duck!" he yelled. Both men did so as the beam of light lanced across the car and enveloped the skeleton. When they looked again, the skeletal creature was no more.

Cyan ran back to the Doman ghost. It was rising, though its armor looked singed and charred. The knight's harsh demeanor softened. "Thou aided me as a true ally. I was wrong. Thou art a noble spirit."

The ghost bowed deeply at Cyan's words.

"Come on, guys," said Sabin, wrapping a bandage around the wound on his arm, "let's get out of here."

The returned to the door, and found another ghost, this one rather ordinary, guarding the door.

"Nooooo… Esssscaaaape…" it moaned.

"Ironhand, would you do the honors, please?" asked Shadow tiredly.

The aurabolt shot through the ghost and blasted the door off its hinges. The men followed the walkway along the side of the car.

_Nooooo… Esssscaaaape…_

"What now?" asked Sabin, exhausted.

"Ancients!" cried Shadow, "Well, we're not going forward."

They looked, and saw that over a dozen ghosts were coming towards them from the front.

_Nooooo… Esssscaaaape…_

More were coming in from behind them, cutting off any route of escape.

"Sirs, we're trapped!" cried Cyan.

The Doman ghost suddenly moaned and flew upward, through the overhang. The three men looked at each other, and shrugged. Shadow and Sabin lifted Interceptor and tossed him onto the roof. Shadow went next and helped pull Cyan up. Sabin came last, flipping himself up onto the roof.

"Well, that was interesting," commented Shadow.

_Nooowheeere tooo ruuuuun… Nooowheeere tooo hiiiide…_

The ghosts began floating up through the overhang, cutting the group off from going backwards.

"Bloody persistent, aren't they?" commented Sabin, then kicked himself for his language.

"I do believe we're stuck, sirs," said Cyan sadly as he reached for his sword.

Sabin shook his head and moved to the end of the car. He looked forward. He could see the engine, a handful of cars ahead of them. They were too close to lose now. And besides, Sabin wasn't yet ready to die. Cyan looked over at him.

"Doest thou have an idea, Sir Sabin?"

Sabin glanced at the knight, then shared a look with Shadow. The ninja looked over the edge, at the distance between the roofs of the two cars. He looked back at Sabin, and his eyes said everything; it would be dicey. Sabin nodded, and Shadow grabbed Interceptor.

"Okay, Cyan, get over here," ordered Sabin. He wrapped one arm around the knight. "I guess it's time to see if all my training with Duncan has paid off. You ready, Kojiro?"

"Right behind you, Ironhand."

"Ancients give me wings," whispered Sabin, "Yahooooooooo!"

The young martial arts master charged forward, and at the last possible second leapt high into the air. He spared a quick glance behind him, and saw Shadow follow suit, with the Doman ghost floating behind.

Sabin landed hard on the next roof, but kept his legs moving, as he ran towards the end of this car, and leapt again. He soared through the air, the wind buffeting his hair wildly. He landed again and set off, with another prodigious leap. This time his landing was harder than before, and the roof was not so sturdy. Sabin and Cyan fell right through and landed on the cold hard metal of the walkway. A moment later, Shadow and Interceptor, unable to stop in midair, landed on top of them.

"Thank you, Sabin," said Shadow, "you broke my fall perfectly."

Sabin would've throttled the ninja if he wasn't trying to get his breath back.

"Ancients protect us," said Cyan, looking back the way they'd came. Shadow and Sabin turned to look, and saw dozens of ghosts getting closer.

"We have to detach the rear train cars," said Shadow quietly.

"How do we do that?" asked Sabin.

Shadow looked down, and Sabin followed his eyes. Hanging between the cars was a lever, the one that would release the cars and let them get away from the ghost army. However, it was also dangerously close to the train wheels.

"I've got the agility to get to it," continued Shadow, "but I need your strength to hold me steady."

Sabin cracked his knuckles. "Just let me know when."

Shadow nodded, and the martial artist grabbed the ninja by the legs and lowered him down between the cars. There was too much noise for the two men to hear each other, so Sabin had to follow his friend's hand signs. A little to the left… a little farther down… too far, back up… stop. Sabin could see that Shadow's head was only a few inches from the wheels.

Shadow had to contort his body in ways he had forgotten were capable for a human, but he finally got a firm grasp on the lever and pulled hard. A clang sounded next to his ear, and he saw the rear cars beginning to fall further and further behind. Sabin quickly lifted him back into the safety of the walkway.

"Don't try too many more stunts like that, you hear me, Kojiro?" said Sabin.

Behind his mask, Shadow grinned. "I'll do what I can."

Cyan helped Shadow to his feet as they got themselves ready again. They entered this new car and were astonished. It was brightly lit and decorated lavishly. Elegant china and silverware were arranged neatly on top of the silk tablecloths. As they walked through the dining car, they saw no ghosts or anything remotely strange, and they were relaxed enough to sheathe their weapons.

At one table, Sabin sat down to rest his feet. He was exhausted, so he knew the other two had to be as well. Shadow and Cyan also sat down, the weariness clear in their body language.

"I wish we could get some food, I'm starving," commented Sabin.

Suddenly ghosts were flitting about the room, and a trio floated up to the table, carrying several trays. Mist covered the table and coalesced into solid food. Sabin and the others were astounded. Beef, chicken, salad, soup, warm bread, butter, and other items were laid out before them. It all smelled delicious.

"Wow," said Sabin with a grin.

"Sir Sabin, art thou certain all will be well if we partake in this?" asked Cyan uncertainly.

Sabin laughed heartily. The first time in a while, he realized. "What's wrong? Worried? We can't wage war on empty stomachs."

Without another word he dove into the food, gobbling down what he could. Shadow filled up a large plate and retired to a corner, where he kept his back to the other two. There, he and Interceptor ate their fill. Cyan was careful and shrewd about what he ate, still not trusting the dead.

Fifteen minutes later, Sabin was the last to push away his food. Immediately, ghosts swept down and cleared the table back to what it had been originally.

"Well, I've stuffed down all I can," said Sabin. As he flexed his arms, he was amazed at how refreshed he felt. Additionally, he realized, his arm, which had been struck by the ghost soldier, didn't hurt anymore. Removing the bandage, he saw that the wound had disappeared. "Wow, this food has healed us. Not too shabby for the work of dead men."

Shadow and Interceptor came back over from the corner, the former was just finished reattaching his mask. "There's no way to move forward from here," he reported, "the end of this car is a pair of tall doors inlaid with glass. We'll have to go back outside and around. However, I want to come in this car from the other end."

"For what reason, sir?" asked Cyan.

Shadow's eyes glittered with rare good humor. "I saw something that I want to check out."

The group left the dining car and went out onto the walkway. They were lucky and no more ghosts assaulted them as they walked around. As with Shadow's request, they reentered the dining car from the opposite end. Against the left wall there was a glass case with a single earring, a rather large one with a beautiful emerald as the focus. Sabin was about to make a snide remark about how he didn't think Shadow was one for jewelry, when he felt it. The lifestream pulsed powerfully through the earring.

"Is that some kind of relic?" he asked Shadow.

The ninja nodded. "Yes. Like many items of ancient days, when magic was real, relics were crafted and enchanted with power. I can feel it, a little. I guess you can too."

"Sirs, we must determine this gem's power at a later time," admonished Cyan, "we still have several cars until we reach the engine."

Shadow quickly dropped the earring into a belt pouch as he followed the others out. They crossed over into the next car and were surprised. The room was open and airy with very little besides the wall decorations. Two large cabins were the only things in this car. Sabin went into the first one.

Along one wall was a sofa that they knew had to pull out into a bed, but for all that there was little else in the cabin. However, in the back corner of the room there was a small chest. Without a word Shadow moved towards it.

"Stop where you are!" yelled a voice.

Shadow and Cyan had their weapons out instantly as a man crashed through the window from outside into the room. He was dressed in garish, multicolored swirling robes, with a turban and sash that covered the lower part of his face. A massive blade hung on his back. With slow, deliberate motions, the man removed the sword and held it in both hands as Sabin moved closer.

"I am Ziegfried," he declared, "the world's greatest swordsman. I claim that chest of treasure as my own. If I were you, ox, I would take your Grandpa there and run like the hounds of hell were on your heels."

Cyan grew uncontrollably angry at this fool's remarks. He was _no one's_ grandfather.

Sabin laughed heartily. "World's greatest swordsman, huh? You look more like my brother's hairdresser. Now scram!"

"Aha! The ox bellows," said Ziegfried, "So now please allow me to introduce you to my blade!"

He charged forward, but out of nowhere Interceptor leapt at him. The dog's jaws clamped shut around the swordsman's wrist, who instinctively opened his hand, and thereby dropped his weapon. Interceptor then spun the man around and threw him against the back wall. The man rose very slowly and unsteadily.

Sabin and Shadow were laughing extremely hard, and even Cyan allowed himself a chuckle. Even the Doman ghost seemed to have a smile on his ethereal features.

"What a pompous windbag!" said Sabin through his laughter.

Ziegfried's eyes were wide with shock. "Impossible. I… I'm the greatest. But I swear I'll still get the last laugh!"

He suddenly leaped into the air above the heads of the others, landing next to the chest. Ziegfried grabbed it and with another leap was at the door, then laughed at the group. "Hahaha! The treasure becomes mine after all. Ta ta, simple cretins!"

He ran out of the room, with Sabin right behind.

"Come back here, you son of a –"

But Ziegfried was gone, no trace of him in the main area. No windows were broken, and the doors at either end of the car remained closed.

"How didst that buffoon escape us?" wondered Cyan.

"Who cares?" replied Shadow, "We still have another room to check."

They moved into the second room, which was laid out the same as the previous one. There was also a small chest here, and Shadow quickly opened it.

Without warning, a terrifying apparition flew out of the chest, knocking Shadow to the ground.

"Look out! Specter!" cried Sabin as he quickly fired an aurabolt. The beam, as usual passed through the creature and destroyed a small section of the wall.

Cyan spun his blade around and then landed a single mighty stroke against the creature, causing it to howl in pain. The Doman ghost stabbed the specter with its own spear at the same time Shadow's shuriken struck it from behind.

The creature moaned again and suddenly the light on the wall exploded, and a bolt of blue-white lightning struck Cyan square in the chest.

"Burn you to hell!" screamed Sabin, this time releasing even more power through his aurabolt. The blast disintegrated the specter and blew away half the wall, leaving the wood in splinters.

Shadow was the first over to Cyan, who was clearly in shock. His eyes were moving about wildly, and his breath was short and rapid.

"Sabin, pass me a fenix down!" he ordered.

The martial artist grabbed one the potions out of his pack and tossed to Shadow, who immediately poured the contents of the jar down Cyan's throat. Almost instantly, Cyan bolted up into a sitting position, coughing and gagging.

It took the knight several moments to get control of his breathing, during that time Shadow removed a healing potion, one much more powerful than normal healing tonics and handed it to his ally. Cyan quickly downed the potion, and his smoking and burned skin healed almost instantly.

"I thank thee, my friends. Certain I was that Death had come for me aboard thy own train."

Shadow breathed a quiet sigh of relief. For most of his life he'd worked to suppress emotion and never call anyone a friend. But he wondered if Sabin and Cyan were becoming those he might call friends. He was glad Cyan was alive. He had no idea that Sabin had seen the look in his gray eyes and guessed at his thoughts.

The three men looked at each other.

"Just the engine to take care of now," said Sabin.

"Let's not waste any more time," agreed Shadow, "We can't have much longer before this train takes us to the realm of the dead."

The three men got up and ready to go, when they noticed that the Doman ghost was not following them out of the room.

"What's going on with him?" wondered Shadow.

"He hath died," replied Cyan, "and he cannot come into the living world. It is time for thou to return to thy death. Thou were of great aid and noble heart. Doma shall live for all eternity in thy spirit."

The ghost bowed deeply and slowly faded from sight.

The group, though saddened by the loss of a good ally, moved forward. They exited the car and climbed onto the walkway on the side of the engine.

"Soooo," came a ghostly voice, "you are the ones who have delayed my progress to the otherworld."

"What the hell is that?" said Sabin.

"It is the ghost of the train itself," Shadow replied.

"Your efforts are in vain," continued the spirit of the train, "in mere minutes, it will be over."

"Come on guys!" cried Sabin as he pushed the door open and went in. The three men looked around at all the levers and gears. They quickly began looking around for some clue as to how to stop the train.

Under the bench at the back, Shadow found a book and quickly began leafing through the pages.

"Guys, I found it!" he yelled, "On the main panel, close the first and third engine levers, and then close the valve on the smokestack outside."

Sabin quickly found the two levers and pulled them both down.

"Outside!" yelled Cyan as the others followed him out.

They climbed up on top of the engine and crawled towards the smokestack. Cyan was in front and grabbed a hold of the wheel. Slowly, as the wheel was rusty and heavy, he was able to close the valve.

The train screeched to a halt, throwing the three men and Interceptor off the engine. Sabin and Shadow both landed well, immediately throwing themselves into rolls to absorb the shock of landing. Cyan, unskilled in martial techniques besides his swordsmanship, landed not so well, bruising his shoulder.

"Fools!" hissed the train's spirit, "You cannot stop the passage of death. I shall run you down!"

"Run!" yelled Shadow as the train began inching forward again.

"Wait, sirs! I have an idea!" cried Cyan. Quickly he pulled a potion out of his pack and splashed the contents onto the train. It instantly halted, seeming to emit screams and moans.

"What was that?" asked Sabin.

"A fenix down," answered Cyan, "I realized the only way to stop the passage of death is to give thou life. The fenix down does so."

Sabin laughed and Shadow nodded in appreciation.

"You are as wise as you are powerful," said the train's spirit, "I will let you return to the world of the living. But I have one stop to make, and there is something I must do."

The three of them boarded the train again and relaxed in one of the large cabins, or at least tried. Although they could see ghosts float in and out of the room, none bothered them. Nearly twenty minutes later, they could feel the train slowing down and then stopping.

Cyan swallowed hard. "Where are we?"

Sabin didn't answer, instead he simply walked out of the car. They were at another station, similar to the one where they had boarded the phantom train.

They all breathed a sigh of relief.

"We finally made it off," said Sabin, silently giving thanks to whatever spirits were looking out for them, "We shouldn't stay here though. We need to get out of here."

"You know, I might be crazy, but I think I can see the edge of the forest from here," said Shadow.

"Then we must be near the southern end of the Phantom Forest," agreed Cyan, "for to the east and west there are only mountains."

"Wow, look at that," whispered Sabin.

The other two turned to look. Dozens of ghostly forms were boarding the train. Cyan's eyes widened in shock. They were all from Doma! Suddenly, he saw something that made his heart break into pieces.

"NO!" he yelled, "Elayne! Owain! No!"

"Is that your family, Cyan?" asked Sabin.

The older knight nodded silently, but was shocked out of his reverie by the sound of the train's horn.

"It's leaving!" cried Cyan, "No!"

He shoved Sabin out of the way and ran towards the car his wife and son had boarded. "Elayne! Owain! No, wait! Stop! No, don't take them away from me! Burn you, don't take them!"

The pale images of his wife and son appeared on the walkway. Elayne smiled at him, and Cyan felt the tears flowing down his cheeks.

"Cyan, my love," she said softly, "You made me so happy. I would not have given up a single moment of our life together. Do not despair. I will always be with you. I love you for all eternity, in life and in death. Never forget, I love you, Cyan."

The old knight could not stop the tears, nor could he find any words to express how his heart was broken.

Young Owain smiled at his father. "Don't worry, Dad. Everything will be fine. We'll be waiting for you. I'll make sure Mom's all right."

The platform ended and Cyan could follow the train no more. It rounded a bend and Cyan knew that this was the last he would ever see of his family. The echoes of his wife and son's words haunted his mind. He knew that he would never forget those words.

Behind him, Sabin stood uneasily while Shadow leaned against the wall. The martial artist and the ninja shared a look.

"Leave him alone, Ironhand," advised Shadow, "He needs time to grieve. No pain hurts more than the loss of the ones we love."

"I know," said Sabin, "I lost both of my parents. Watched them wither away before my eyes. He's got to know that someone is there for him, like no one was there for me."

Shadow shrugged, as Sabin walked up behind Cyan. The knight was sobbing almost uncontrollably. Sabin put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Cyan grasped Sabin's hand in thanks, but continued crying. A few minutes later he managed to stop the tears, then turned to embrace Sabin. The martial artist returned the embrace, then went back to Shadow.

Cyan turned and took one last look, seeing one more time the smile on his beloved's face. His face turned grim. "Kefka. I swear by all that is holy, I will take from thee all you hath taken from me. This I swear on my family. I will hunt thee until your death. I swear it."


	11. Chapter 9: The Steps from Youth

Once more I throw myself at the mercy of you readers for forgiveness. My muse has left me and I struggle against the tides of writer's block every day. MogGuy, I'm sorry you hate Cyan. Is it a personal distaste or do you dislike the way I've portrayed him in the story?

And hello to new reader Buckbeak, thank you for your enthusiastic first review. I don't care much for Shakesperean authenticity, but I do appreciate the suggestions. And actually, in this particular cases (because it's expanded based on my imagination), the Ancients do not refer to the Three Goddesses. It may be a misunderstanding on my part, but I thought the Goddesses referred to the last three Magi who ended the reign of magic in the world. That being the case in my mind, the Ancients came long before the Magi. Just one more thing I added to my version. I hope in time (as we get more into magic and its history) that things will begin to make more sense.

Thanks to everyone else, I look forward to getting many more reviews. For now, thank you and enjoy.

* * *

The journey out of the Phantom Forest led the three men into the plains south of the domain of Doma. There, while fighting the beasts of these lands, it was determined that there was only one town reachable that could take them back to Narshe. Mobliz, on the far side of the great grasslands realm known as the Veldt. However, the only way to get to the Veldt, was through great danger on the river. And the only way to the river was by diving in at Barren Falls, which could be reached through a path along Mount Ethen.

The journey took another four days. But by following the mountains south, and then following them as they opened up a gap in the plains, they were able to find Mount Ethen. The path through the mountain was uninhabited by man or beast, and the three friends quickly made it to the end.

"So this is Barren Falls," commented Sabin, looking out at the towering cascade of water, realizing that this path was as foolhardy as anything he'd ever done.

"Following the river south lies the Veldt," said Cyan, "There art many dangerous creatures that inhabit that land."

"Yeah," agreed Sabin, "but the Empire has got to be right on our heels. Kefka could never allow us to penetrate the camp, tear it shreds, and then escape without following us."

"If we can slip through the Veldt," continued Cyan, "then we could make it to Mobliz. From there we can take a ship back to Narshe, where we will find your friends."

Shadow listened to the exchange, and decided that it was time. He turned his back to the other two men and began walking away, Interceptor at his side. He stopped after a handful of steps.

"I have served my purpose," said the ninja over his shoulder, "now it is time for me to find my own path again."

He began walking away.

"Shadow!" called Sabin, stopping the ninja in his tracks, "Thanks for your help. I never could have done this without you. You're a good friend, Kojiro."

Shadow turned back to face the martial artist. "So are you, Sabin."

"Let's join ranks again, soon. A man is always in need of good friends," continued Sabin.

Shadow bowed slightly, then turned and walked away.

"Is it time, then, Sir Sabin?" asked Cyan, seeing the look of sadness in his friend's eyes.

Sabin took another look over the edge, and took a deep breath. "Sure, why the hell not?"

The two men then leapt off the cliff and into the raging waters of Barren Falls.

* * *

Sabin wasn't exactly sure what happened next. He could vaguely recall himself and Cyan fighting some kind of fish-like creatures, and he remembered hitting his head on something. But he didn't know when that was. Sabin suddenly coughed and spat water out of his mouth. He realized he was laying in mud along the bank of the river. He shook his head, trying to think clearly.

He turned to his right, and saw Cyan being pulled up onto the bank as well. Whatever it was doing the pulling was short, draped in monster hides. When it turned to him, Sabin saw the spark of intelligence in the eyes of the young boy. This youth looked to be no older than 12 years, and based on his clothes and wild hair, appeared to be surviving against all odds.

Sabin propped himself up on one elbow. "Hey, kid…"

The boy's head shot up and looked at Sabin. "Waroo! Waroo!" cried the boy as he raced away.

"Hey, wait!" called Sabin, but it was too late. The boy was already out of sight. Shaking his head in frustration, Sabin turned his attention to Cyan. "Come on, buddy, get up."

After a few minutes of gentle shaking, the old knight suddenly coughed and came around.

"You okay?" asked Sabin.

"Indeed," was the knight's answer, "but where art we? Doest thou know?"

Sabin shook his head. "Somewhere on the western end of the Veldt I would guess. I just saw a strange kid help us out of the water. Looked like he was surviving out here on his own."

"Impossible. No youth could survive in this wilderness without aid."

Sabin nodded and rose to his feet. "Well, we should get moving. Mobliz is at least a two week hard march from here."

"Then let us not delay."

The journey across the Veldt was long and tiring. Monsters were everywhere and forced the two men to pause in their journey at least two or three times each day. Although neither Sabin nor Cyan knew exactly where they were, Cyan knew that Mobliz lay near the eastern coast, which meant marching across leagues of grassland, battling the monsters that migrated to the Veldt.

Several times, the two men were forced to deal with Imperial soldiers on patrol, who attacked at the slightest provocation. Most dangerous were those soldiers in MagiTek armor, and the two men went through a great many of their healing tonics and potions along the journey.

More than once, especially after battles, the strange boy that Sabin had seen pulling them out of the river appeared.

"Gau! Gau! Me hungry!" cried the boy. But upon seeing that neither of the two men had any food to give him, the strange wild boy hurried away.

After almost two weeks, the two friends reached the eastern shore of the Veldt, and turned north, reaching the town of Mobliz a day later.

Like many towns and villages scattered throughout the world, Mobliz was a small place, being only a mile or so from one end of the town center to the other. As they approached the town limits from the south, an old man walked up and greeted them

"Hello strangers! How in the world did you get to Mobliz?" he wondered.

"We hath come from Barren Falls, good sir," answered Cyan.

The old man's eyes went wide. "You came via Barren Falls! Unbelievable! For the last few weeks they've been flowing like there's no tomorrow!"

"Yeah, well, we can't stay and chat for too long," commented Sabin, "we need to get to Narshe as quickly as possible."

"Well talk to the gents who run the carrier pigeon post office, they might be able to help you," suggested the old man.

Sabin and Cyan nodded in thanks and entered the town. Ahead was the town's inn, but neither man was in the mood to rest too much at the moment. A little to their west was the local armory, and while Sabin couldn't find anything to match his mithril claws, Cyan was able to discard the leather armor he'd been wearing for iron armor, which although it hindered his movement a little, the superior protection was worth it.

Asking for directions within the town led the two men further into the center of the town, where they found a general shop where they were able to restock on healing potions, and Sabin purchased a few helpings of dried meat rations, though he didn't answer Cyan's unasked question.

After leaving the shop, the two men made their way to the post office, where they'd been told that only carrier pigeons connected Mobliz to the rest of the world and kept them informed of news. As they approached, they saw a scholarly man attaching a rolled up parchment to the leg of a pigeon.

"Excuse me," called Sabin.

The man turned politely to them. "Hello, good sirs, what can I do for you?"

"We're trying to get to Narshe as quickly as possible," explained the martial artist, "and we were told that you might be able to help us out."

The man shrugged. "Well, there are no other towns or cities within any kind of traveling distance on the Veldt. Well, there might be a way. There are some really strong currents running through the Serpent's Trench. Have you heard about it?" At both warriors' blank looks he continued. "Just hop into the current, and you'll be swept all the way to Nikeah. From there you can get to Narshe. There's only one problem, the fact that a device we built expressly for the purpose of breathing underwater was stolen months ago and taken into the Veldt. There's no chance of finding it."

Cyan and Sabin nodded in thanks and moved off, talking to each other.

"It doest appear, then, Sir Sabin, that we art marooned here," commented Cyan sadly.

"Not possible," insisted Sabin, "there has got to be a way to get out of here and back to Narshe. We've already wasted weeks of time. They've got to be waiting for us, well, me, certain by now that I'm dead. Oh, hey watch it!"

Not looking where he was going, Sabin had almost walked right into a young girl. She appeared to be crying.

"What tragedy brings tears to thine eyes, child?"

The little girl sniffled. "The soldier in here, he's hurt really bad."

The house behind her seemed deserted, only a young woman pacing back and forth in front of the door gave any hint that there was a person here.

"Fair maiden, what hath happened?" asked Cyan.

They young woman was about Sabin's age, with long, flowing blond hair. Her eyes were rimmed in red. "Some Imperial soldier wandered here a few weeks ago. He was busted up pretty badly. It doesn't look good at all. He should have died a while ago. Only the letters he's been getting from the town of Maranda have kept him going. Please sirs, I can't be the one to comfort him any more. Can you help me?"

Sabin nodded and entered the house without even waiting for Cyan's approval. Which was fine, because the elder knight had no intention of waiting for Sabin. They walked in and went to the back room, where a small, makeshift bed had been set up in the little study.

The man was young, he could not yet have seen twenty summers. The two warriors looked over his injuries. Deep cuts that were already scarring his face were obvious, and it looked as though one of his legs was missing. Sabin, knowledgeable about the human body, was certain that the young man was bleeding inside. There was nothing to be done for that; it was only a matter of time.

"Hey there, soldier," said Sabin softly as he pulled up a chair. The young man opened one eye and looked at this giant of a man. "What's your story?"

The soldier took a deep breath. "I am from Maranda. The Empire… General Celes invaded our town. She beat us into the ground. I was forced to join the Imperial Army. When I heard that we were making for Doma, I deserted. I could not wage war on a place as innocent as my own home had been. General Celes and General Kefka… they sent others after me. They caught up with me… and did this. I can't move anymore. I can't even get up to read the letters from my girl. I know I'll never see Lola again. One of her letters is on the table. I beg you… read it to me, please?"

Sabin nodded and stood up. He could see Cyan standing back against the wall, trembling. Rage or sadness, Sabin couldn't tell. He broke open the seal on the letter and sat back down.

"My love. It's been ages since I've seen you, and I miss you so much. I still can't get used to Imperial troopers walking up and down the streets of Maranda, almost looking for trouble, but otherwise things are okay. Flowers are blooming in the garden, telling me that spring is here. How are you doing? I've been so worried about you. I wish I could fly to your side. Rest, and know that I think about you constantly. Come back to me. Lola."

Sabin finished the letter and looked back at the young soldier, who was crying. Sabin sighed deeply. He knew that this young man was only one of the first. There would be more people hurt like this, more families uprooted and torn apart by this war. He'd been a fool. He had stayed with Duncan, meditated, watched from a neutral standpoint, and all the while he should have been out in the world making a difference. That's what Duncan had taught him to do; make a stand for the innocent and the downtrodden and face down the evil, the corrupt, and the warmongering. It was time to get things done.

"I wish by the Ancients that I could write back to Lola," said the soldier, "but I'm so tired, so weak, I can't even pick up a pen."

Abruptly, Cyan left the house. Sabin looked at the man again. "Don't worry, it'll work out."

Quickly, Sabin followed his friend out, and saw Cyan entering the post office. By the time he got in, Cyan was already handing coins over to the postmaster.

"What are you doing?" asked Sabin.

Cyan gave him a cold look. "That boy's life hath been destroyed by the depredations of Kefka and Gestahl. If all I canst do is keep it so that his love and family continue to write to him, then I hath done well."

* * *

The two of them stayed in Mobliz for another few days to rest their weary bodies, while Cyan continued to send letters for the young soldier back to his home of Maranda. Finally, the young man died of his wounds. They and several others of Mobliz did what they could to give the youth a proper burial.

It was then that Sabin decided they had to leave town. They couldn't stay any longer. Narshe was calling to him. Sabin frowned as he led the way out of town, towards the south. He could hardly imagine what was happening in the rest of the world. Hopefully Locke was able to help South Figaro against the depredations of the Imperial army and get to safety. But Sabin was most worried about Terra and Edgar. He had promised Terra that he would look out for her, and Sabin knew he was not a man to go back on his word. As for Edgar, well, he hadn't seen his big brother in ten years, and now he found him again.

"Sir Sabin!" cried Cyan.

Sabin snapped out of his reverie to see several giant winged insectile creatures flying at them. He launched himself into a backflip, his legs trailing in a powerful kick that knocked the insect out of the air.

Cyan nimbly dodged aside of the first insect to attack him, while the second flew straight into his sword blade. With less than half a dozen of these creatures, it took no time at all for the two experienced warriors to dispatch them. Then suddenly, the strange wild boy that they had kept seeing during this journey leapt from the grasses.

"Waroo! Me Gau! Me hungry!" cried the boy.

This time however, Cyan reached down into his backpack, pulling out a package of dried meats that he'd purchased in Mobliz for just this purpose. Moving slowly and carefully, he tossed the meat towards the boy, who tentatively picked it up. After a few moments smelling it, the boy Gau sank his teeth into it, and finished it in moments. The boy suddenly started jumping around in glee, crying out at the top of his lungs.

"What the heck…?" muttered Sabin, watching the display in complete surprise.

Suddenly, the boy hopped up right in front of the two men, his young eyes wide and hopeful.

"Thou art so… odd," commented Cyan, but he shook his head to clear his thoughts, "I am Cyan, and this is Sabin."

"You Cyan, you Sabin," said the boy, smiling and nodding, "me want more food!"

Sabin smirked. "No more for you, that's for sure."

Gau leapt at the martial artist and poked him in the chest. "You go. Get more for me!"

Sabin laughed and stared down at the kid, who barely came up to his stomach. "You're a regular little munchkin, you know that?"

"And you! Afraid of me!" cried the boy.

The martial artist chuckled. "You want to fight? I have no problems taking you on."

Gau looked at Sabin and crossed his eyes. "Me not wanna hurt you."

Those crossed eyes were weirding Sabin out. "Quit looking at me like that, kid!"

He reached for Gau, but the youth hopped out of the way. Sabin lunged towards him again, and this time got a hold of the furs on his left shoulder. As he pulled the boy around, Gau slipped out of the martial artist's grasp and rolled on the ground.

Sabin looked at the young boy with a mixture of amusement and admiration. "Huh, you're pretty tough, you know that?"

Gau laughed. "That fun! You strong! Me like dancing, you good leader."

"Shut up!" said Sabin vehemently.

"Calm yourselves, good sirs," cried Cyan, putting himself between the two of them. When Sabin finally seemed relaxed, the knight turned to Gau. "And thou, wild one, who might thou be?"

Gau laughed and started jumping all around. "Thou! Thou! Thou! Thou! Thou!"

Cyan suddenly felt tears in his eyes, looking at the carefree child but able only to see his precious Owain. He turned and walked several steps behind Sabin, shielding his eyes as the tears fell.

Gau noticed this immediately and instantly ran over to Cyan, trying to look at him. "You angry? Cyan? You angry… me?"

Sabin, despite his growing distaste for the kid, grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Cyan. "Listen to me, kid, his family was just, just…" Sabin couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Gau nodded and went back to Cyan. "Me understand. Me sorry. Me not mean person."

Cyan sniffed once and stood straight up. He knew it would not do well for him to allow everything to remind him of his family. He had to avenge them. Once Kefka was dead, there would be plenty of time to mourn and cry. But for now, there was work to be done. He turned back around to face Sabin and Gau.

"Look sirs, we can't have ye two prancing around here all day! Gau, I am certain that we shall do well together. I invite thee to travel with us."

"Ah!" cried Gau happily, "I give present! Gau give Cyan and Sabin nice gift for good food."

Sabin snickered and looked at Cyan. "What kind of rubbish do you suppose…"

"Gau's treasure!" interrupted the boy, "Shiny! Shiny! Shiny!"

The young fighter's eyes widened slightly at that. "Can anything be that shiny?" he asked Gau.

"Does Mr. Thou like shiny thing?" asked Gau happily.

Sabin's grin died immediately. "Mr. Thou is that one, over there!" he said, pointing to Cyan. Then his grin came back. "A shiny thing, hmm? I can just imagine how jealous Locke's going to be when he hears about this."

Gau came over. "Who be Locke?" he asked, "He bad man? Maybe he try steal Gau's treasure?"

"Locke? Well, he's…" Sabin paused, trying to find the words to describe the treasure hunter. When he brought his mind back, he saw Gau running around in circles. "Hey! Listen when someone's talking to you!"

"I do think thou is trying to us something, Sir Sabin," commented Cyan, smiling slightly at the impulsive young fighter.

Sabin sighed again. He'd been doing that a lot since Cyan had fed Gau that meat. "All right, carry on. I won't stop you."

Gau hopped back a little bit and then looked at both of the men. "Here here! Shiny thing here! Sabin, place where get food, call Mobliz. Cyan, place where stand, river brought there. Now go Crescent Mountain, shiny thing there!"

Sabin rolled his eyes, a motion that Cyan caught. "See here, Sir Sabin. We shall journey with Sir Gau to thy Crescent Mountain and see what there is. Come along, Sir Gau, lead on!"

Gau immediately turned south and began walking, and Cyan hustled to catch up to the young boy. Sabin dawdled a little bit, thinking to himself.

"Oh Ancients, why did we have to bring him along anyway," he wondered. But exasperated as he was, Sabin had to admit that the kid had spunk. And he knew that energy and enthusiasm were often a great way of taking the measure of a person.

"Mr. Thou! Hurry! We leaving!" called Gau.

"I told you, I'm _not_ Mr. Thou," growled Sabin as he followed.

* * *

The journey took another three days traveling to the southwest. Several times during battles with the creatures of the Veldt, Gau would disappear for hours at a time. He did his best to explain that he could study the attacks of his enemies and learn how they fought. With a little practice, he could then use those tactics and special abilities as his own.

Gau led them a little ways up the slopes of the Crescent Mountain and into a cave. They traveled back a ways as Sabin held a torch aloft. About two hundred feet back, the little tunnel opened up into a cavern, with a deep chasm just to the right of them. It was dark and somewhat creepy, causing Cyan to draw his sword.

Suddenly, Gau dropped to his knees and began crawling back and forth over the dirt. Both of the older men looked on curiously.

"Cyan," said Sabin, "the shiny thing Gau spoke of. It has to be here!"

"Sir Gau, where exactly is thy treasure?" asked Cyan anxiously.

Gau stood up, a confused look on his face as he turned around several times. "Gau, forget."

Both men's faces fell at the same moment.

"Gau know it here somewhere."

"Well," said Sabin, "should we look around for it?"

"Indeed, sir."

The three of them walked around a little, and Gau eventually led them to the opposite side of the cavern. There seemed to be a narrow pathway along the right, which led the trio to the other side of the chasm. Gau leapt ahead, his body language a bit more urgent as they traveled along the chasm again.

Suddenly, Gau dropped to his knees and began digging. A moment later he cried in joy and held his find aloft.

"Is this the treasure you spoke of, Sir Gau?"

"Treasure, yes!"

The shiny treasure looked to be a gold or brass cylinder. Coming out of it were three long tubes, at the end of each was a helmet with a portion of it clear.

"Looks like glass," commented Cyan, but he tapped the tip of his sword into it, and realized that if it _was_ glass, then it had some kind of enchantment to make it harder to break.

"Well," said Sabin, "they look like they might just fit us. Let's go find out if they'll really enable us to breathe underwater. Let's go!

Ahead of them was another tunnel, and this one led them outside very quickly, to a small cliff. At the edge was the beginning of the Serpent's Trench. The two older men looked at the flowing waters, and Cyan gulped.

"Thy current, is extremely swift," he murmured.

Sabin gave a quick, humorless laugh. "Yeah, no kidding. But unless we hop in and take our chances, we'll never see anyone again. Let's go."

The martial arts master slipped one of the helmets over his head, and Cyan followed. They both turned to Gau who was huddling in a corner, scared out of his mind. Sabin picked the youth up gently while Cyan placed the helmet over the boy's head. As one, they leapt into the swiftly flowing water.

* * *

The journey through the Serpent's Trench was fast and furious. Sea creatures surrounded them and many sea monsters were attacking with ferocity almost unknown among surface monsters. Gau had been fortunate enough to study the attacks of a creature capable of creating bolts of lightning, and these attacks were particularly useful. Cyan kept his blade out and would slice at a monster as he passed by on the current. Sabin kept watch on the rear, ready with an aurabolt for all the creatures foolish enough to attack him.

None of the travelers could guess at how much time had passed under the water. An hour? A day? It was impossible to tell.

Suddenly Cyan flew into something solid and the glass faceplate cracked and began leaking water into his face. Panicking, he tried to signal to the others what had happened. Sabin swam over and helped Cyan remove the helmet, and the knight shot for the surface of the water.

Cyan's head broke the water's surface and he gasped deeply. He began heaving as he realized the solid object he'd gone into was a support pole for a pier. Slowly, he pulled his aching body onto the docks. A few moments later, Sabin and Gau appeared and removed their helmets.

"We made it," gasped Sabin as he pulled himself up onto the pier. He reached down and pulled Gau out of the water next.

"Aye, Sir Sabin, but we hath made it to where?" wondered Cyan.

Gau suddenly hunched over and began shaking all the excess water off his body. "Gau hungry."

Cyan and Sabin both nodded. "We also need to get some dry clothes," added Sabin, although a moment later he realized it might not be necessary. The sun was shining brightly overhead, and the air was warm. It took him a moment to realize that in the weeks since he had been separated from Terra and Edgar, spring was ending and summer was beginning to arrive.

"Come, sirs," said Cyan, "let us discover the name of this town."

Sabin hopped to his feet and followed the elder knight and the kid down the docks. There were numerous boats tied up alongside the piers, and several were loading up supplies and trade goods.

Moving into the town, they saw it bustling with activity. Open-air stalls seemed to be the norm, with young children scampering all around. Doubtless some of them were pickpockets. Directly ahead of them was a café, and Sabin moved towards it.

"Excuse me, miss," he said to a young waitress outside, "but my friends and I have gotten lost, could you tell me where we are?"

The girl, who looked to be younger than Terra, stared at him with wide eyes. It was hard for her to imagine that she barely came up to this stranger's chest. "This is Nikeah, trade goods from all over the world come here to get shipped."

"My fair maiden, doest thou know how to get to the town of Narshe?" asked Cyan.

"Yeah, sure. Narshe is just a week or so northwest of here," she answered, "but you can't get to it on foot. There was some kind of major rockslide in the mountains. The passage north is completely blocked. However, one of the ships is heading there. I think it leaves tonight or tomorrow morning."

"Thanks for your help, miss," said Sabin, as he handed over a few gold coins, "For troubling you."

Cyan decided that he needed a warm drink and moved past the martial artist into the café. Gau and Sabin followed him, and they saw that the inside of the café was rather deserted. Only a handful of people were having some drinks. The two older men went over to the bar.

"G'day lads," said the bartender, "What'll ye be having?"

"Ale," replied both at once.

"Gau hungry," whined the boy, struggling to see over the counter.

Sabin grinned. "And if you've got any food and drink for a kid, we'll take that too."

The bartender was back a moment later with two tall mugs, and a smaller cup for Gau.

"Hey, it seems pretty empty here, what's going on?" asked Sabin.

The bartender shrugged. "Well, there used to be a lot of shipping that would come through here and then continue on to the southern continent. Usually kept this place jumping day and night. But all the cities down there, Tzen, Albrook, Maranda… burn them. They've all been smashed. The bloody Empire has washed over them and turned them into their own little provinces, feeding the Imperial war machine. Too much is confiscated by Gestahl's soldiers, and we were losing money on shipping to there. So, we stopped shipping, and business is dying down."

Sabin nodded and turned back to his drink. Cyan took one of the towels nearby and dried off his face. He didn't notice the young woman coming up to him.

"Hey there, handsome," she cooed, "How about joining me for a fun time?"

She was young and fairly attractive, perhaps Sabin's age, but the way she walked and acted showed that she'd been picking up travelers for profit for a while. Cyan's eyes widened in shock and indignation.

"H… How dare thee, thou licentious howler!" he cried, backing away from the girl. But she didn't give up.

"Geez, don't blow an artery, baby. I'm not going to hurt you. You can have a lot of fun with me, baby."

"B… baby?" gasped Cyan, looking ready to draw his sword.

"Cyan," said Sabin, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder and steering him back to the bar, "Just relax. This is what she does for a living, so she can keep a roof over her head and food on her table. Don't let her antics get to you."

"It's just… I'm not like that!" the knight whispered fiercely.

"No one thinks you are," Sabin assured him, laughing inside, "Just let it go, man."

But the girl was not about to let a potential meal ticket slip away without a fight, so she pushed on. "Stop whispering, my ears are burning, baby."

"Enough!" cried Cyan, "Have you no shame? I'll have you know…"

But Sabin had stepped around the knight and taken a hold of the girl's arm. He led her away to the opposite end of the room. Cyan was still trembling with exasperation when he saw Sabin grab the girl tightly and place a deep kiss on her lips. The girl stumbled away, holding something in her hand, and Sabin returned to the other two.

"What didst thou do, Sir Sabin?"

Sabin grinned. "Told her I was going to make a good show and pay her about what she made in a week. After I kissed her I… suggested… she take the rest of the day off."

"Why Mr. Thou kiss girl?" asked Gau, "You like her, Mr. Thou?"

Sabin glowered at the boy, then turned back to his drink.

An hour later, having eaten their fill, the three of them went back to the docks. They quickly found the ship leaving for Narshe, and learned that it would leave in two hours. In the meantime, they returned to the town proper and perused the stalls for weapons, armor, and other items that could be of use.

They returned to the ship with plenty of time to spare, and were told the journey would take three days before stopping near Narshe.

All three of them stood up on the deck as the sun was setting into the distant horizon. Gau huddled near the front of the ship, watching the water pass by beneath him. Sabin and Cyan lounged nearby on the forecastle.

"Well, Sir Sabin, our journeys alone are nearly over," said Cyan, "Narshe is only a short distance from here."

"Yeah, I just hope the others arrived safely. I've been worried about them," said the martial artist. His thoughts turned to his brother, and a young girl of green hair and great beauty.

Cyan saw the far away look in his friend's eyes, but didn't know what to make of it. "I'm sure they're fine."

"Me hope so too," said Gau, staring out across the horizon.


	12. Chapter 10: Imperial Siege

Well, I didn't get too many reviews for the last chapter, but I hope that more will come with this update. Again, people, please submit reviews if you loved it, hated it, thought there was a part that really stuck with you, or whatever. Your reviews help me shake off writer's block. In any case, thank you and enjoy.

* * *

Arvis was so nervous that he was surprised that sweat wasn't beading down his face. He and Banon had discussed many times whether to speak to Elder Kendrik as quickly as possible, or to wait for Locke. Banon had argued forcefully that they wait, and so they had given Locke and this stranger, Sabin, nearly a month to make it back to Narshe. But finally, even Banon had acknowledged that they could wait no longer.

Immediately, Arvis had called a meeting of the Elder's Council to address the matter of the Esper. Now Elder Kendrik and three other members of the Council had gathered to give Arvis and Banon the chance to speak.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Kendrik did not trust the leader of the Returners, nor the Imperial witch who had wrecked havoc in the town less than three months ago. The people of Narshe, being very insular, had very long memories. Not even the presence of King Edgar Figaro had mollified Elder Kendrik's aversion to the situation.

"I understand all of what you're saying, General," Kendrik said, addressing Banon by his long-surrendered title, "However, we here in Narshe are a peaceful people. We have had nothing to do with the Empire since its inception. So how can you expect me of all people to begin encouraging war and bloodshed?"

"I never said that, Elder. Not directly nor did I hint at it, and you know it!" cried Arvis, hoping to sway the other Elders.

Kendrik was a man approaching seventy summers of life, whose hair and trimmed beard had turned as white as the mountain snows. Long ago, his arrogance and aggression had brought pain and death to Narshe. Since then, Kendrik had been a stalwart pacifist, and had become the de facto leader of Narshe in the years since.

His eyes narrowed as he gazed at Arvis, one of his rivals within the town for the hearts and minds of the people. He had to prevent anyone from harming the people of Narshe. This had been his duty for twenty years, and not even his old friend would be allowed to risk the lives of the townspeople.

"Well it was _something_ along those lines," he said quietly.

Banon sighed and turned half away from Kendrik and the other Elders. "He's right you know," he said quietly.

Arvis gasped at this apparent betrayal. "Banon!"

"Our blood will spill because of you, Kendrik!" cried the leader of the Returners.

Elder Kendrik nearly growled in anger. "We in Narshe learned our lesson in violence years ago."

"Have you learned your lesson in apathy yet!" retorted Edgar.

"Quiet boy!" called one of the other Elders.

"You know as well as we do that Emperor Gestahl is racing across the world to acquire the secrets of magic and use that to enhance his already formidable Magitek forces," argued Banon.

"They knew of my power when they had me controlled by the Slave Crown," agreed Terra, trying to lend her own arguments to convince the people to help, "By sending myself and the other soldiers through here with no compunction against slaying your people, the Empire has proven that it won't respect your town's neutrality."

Banon nodded, memories of the good man that Gestahl had once been forcing their way into his thoughts. "Gestahl will stop at nothing to retrieve the Esper your people found, Kendrik. Magic has been his obsession ever since the end of the Urthmen War. In the end, it won't matter if you fight alongside us or not. If he continues to obtain magical items at a similar rate, Gestahl will undoubtedly release it through his military might, a situation that will certainly lead to global destruction."

"The War of the Magi," agreed Elder Kendrik quietly, "That mythical war set mankind back a thousand years. Will we never escape the war's shadow? How can this be happening again?"

There was silence in the room for several moments, each person absorbed in their own thoughts and reflections on the ancient War of the Magi.

"Brother!"

Edgar and Terra spun around, mouths ajar, just in time to see Sabin's massive frame squeeze through the door.

"Sabin!" cried Terra. Nearly in tears with relief, she ran over to the martial artist and wrapped him in a hug. "You're all right! We were so worried about you."

Sabin gently returned her hug and smiled. "I'm fine. Don't worry, I won't be jumping into any rivers in the near future."

He looked up and met Edgar's smiling gaze. They nodded, but shared no words of greeting. They didn't need it.

"I'm glad you're safe, little brother," said Edgar, "Now who are these gents with you?"

So relieved to see that Sabin was safe, Terra hadn't noticed the other two follow in behind him. The black-haired older man was outfitted in full iron armor, while the boy that trailed behind them was clad in nothing more than animal hides.

"I am Cyan, former retainer to King Gareth of Doma," answered the knight, his chin held high and his back straight.

"Gau! Gau!" cried the boy, hopping up and down, "Friends with Mr. Thou!"

Terra smiled and held out her hand to the young boy. "Hello there, Gau. I'm Terra."

"You Miss Terra!" said Gau happily, "You Mr. Thou friend too. You pretty!"

Terra blushed at the boy's comment. "Thank you, Gau."

Sabin smiled at the interaction between Terra and his young friend, but his demeanor turned deadly serious as he turned to Banon. "Doma's gone. It was completely wiped out by the Empire."

"All dead?" gasped Banon in horror.

"Kefka," said Cyan tightly, fighting hard to keep his tears hidden, "He… poisoned everyone. Even my wife and son."

Elder Kendrik felt ready to throw up. "Barbaric!" he cried.

Banon gazed deeply into the other man's eyes. "Elder?"

The leader of Narshe met the other man's gaze steadily, and knew what lay behind that questioning look. But as much as his morality screamed to take action, he could not. He had to think of his people first and foremost. He would not bring death and destruction upon them again.

"Doma was attacked only because King Gareth was collaborating with the Returners," said Elder Kendrik, looking for some excuse, "With you, Banon. If we don't make that mistake, then we'll be safe."

"That's nonsense!" cried a new voice.

Everyone in the room turned to the door as Locke burst in at a near run.

"Locke!" exclaimed Terra happily. She'd had to wait almost a month, but all her friends were reunited.

"The Empire is poised to attack Narshe even as we speak! We made it here just ahead of their scouts," he reported, not purposefully ignoring Terra, but this was much more important than exchanging pleasantries.

"Locke, how do you know that?" asked Edgar.

"From Celes here," answered the young rogue, stepping aside so that the others could see the young blond woman for the first time.

A spark suddenly seemed to go off in Terra's mind as she saw the girl, who looked to be the same age.

_I recognize her,_ Terra knew, _but how? Where could I have known her?_

"I found her imprisoned beneath South Figaro," explained Locke, "she used to be one of Gestahl's generals."

"Aha!" cried Cyan, "I knew thou was familiar, foul witch! Stand aside, Sir Gau! She is General Celes, she who put Maranda to the torch! She must be an Imperial spy!"

The elder knight drew his sword and advanced on Celes, but Locke threw himself between them. As Cyan advanced, they backed up until Celes was pinned against the wall.

"Wait, whoever you are!" he pleaded, "Celes turned against the Empire! She's joined us, she's now a Returner. She's fighting with us now!"

"I shall not be dissuaded by thee, rogue," growled the knight.

Locke whipped out his own knife, which after a moment he realized was pitifully small compared to the older man's sword.

"I can't let you do this," he said firmly, "I promised Celes that I would protect her, and I will not go back on my word!"

Far from the commotion, Edgar heard his old friend's words, and instantly knew the meaning behind them. A promise Locke had once made that he felt he had betrayed. Someone who he felt he'd failed to protect.

_Oh, Locke my old friend, are you still thinking about that?_ wondered Edgar.

Cyan heard none of the younger man's protests. All he knew that there was an Imperial general standing before him, someone who was every as responsible for Elayne's death as Kefka. Moving with a speed that caught Locke by surprise, he pushed the young treasure to the side and brought his sword down towards the young general's head.

Suddenly, Cyan felt the blade come to a halt and distantly heard a grunt of pain. His vision had been clouded by a blood-red mist, only the Imperial had existed in the fog. Refocusing his eyes, Cyan saw that his sword was encased by Sabin's massive hand only a few inches above Celes' skull.

Blood trickled down the blade.

Cyan instantly relaxed his grip on the weapon, and Sabin released the sword. Blood seeped out of the gash across the young warrior's palm. Terra came up instantly and began wrapping a bandage around his hand.

"Good sir," said Edgar as he moved next to Cyan, "I know this must be difficult for you. Yes, this young lady may have been an Imperial general, but now she wants to bring down the Empire just as much as you do. Trust Locke. I've never known him to be mistaken about a person. I will always trust his instincts."

Finished bandaging Sabin's hand, Terra also came up to the older knight. "I was also an Imperial soldier," she told him.

"What?" gasped Cyan.

Edgar nodded. They seemed to finally be getting through. "The Empire is evil. We can all agree on that, but not everyone who is a part of the Empire is evil as well."

"The soldier in Mobliz," said Sabin simply.

Cyan took a deep breath, calming himself, then sheathed his sword. He then moved to help Locke up off the floor. True, the soldier in Mobliz had been a good and decent young man, forced into fighting on behalf of the Empire. He doubted this was the case with General Celes. Still, it was possible that King Edgar was right. Nonetheless, the Imperials, both young women, would still bear watching. He would not be blinded by idealism.

"Emergency! Emergency!" cried a voice outside.

"Oh, what now?" hissed Locke.

"The empire is coming! Elders, come quickly!"

Banon pushed his way through the younger freedom fighters, followed quickly by Elder Kendrik. The rest of them followed, racing out the doors and up another story. They looked down into the southern valley.

"Bloody Ancients," muttered Edgar.

Before, the Empire had only sent in Terra and two soldiers. This time, there was a small army approaching the town, Imperial flags at its head. Kefka's personal banner flew at the forefront.

"Didn't take Kefka long to get the rest of his army here," muttered Sabin. He could feel Celes, standing next to him, tense.

Elder Kendrik looked at the approaching army, feeling a tear drip down his face and into his beard. Twenty years of leading Narshe peacefully, avoiding conflict of all kinds, and still he could not prevent war from finding his home. Pacifism could no longer protect his people, it seemed.

"Ancients protect us," he prayed quietly, "Very well, it seems as though we no longer have any choice in the matter. We must prepare for battle. Arvis, you and the other Elders find the Marshal-Captain and have our guards evacuate the people to the lower mines. Prepare the choke points and destroy the Imperials who penetrate to the second level. The Imperials will never find the secured tunnels."

"They'll be going after the Esper," Banon told him.

Elder Kendrik nodded. "After the first attempt, I had the Esper moved up into the hills. We thought it would be safer there."

"Then let's go after it," said Edgar.

They grabbed coats for the snow-covered peaks and moved outside.

* * *

Kefka rode at the head of the Imperial forces, making his fearsome and imposing visage clear for all the soldiers to see. He wanted to make sure they feared him. Fear of him got them to do everything he wanted them to do. So much better than having the men respect him like General Leo, the weak fool.

Nearby, the Magitek-infused hounds were pulling against their restraints. Their enhanced intelligence and aggression gave them the ability to sense when violence was coming. They could sense it now, and wanted to do nothing more than to tear into those they were directed against.

Kefka grinned cruelly. The hounds were almost metaphorical of the whole Empire. Everything was just waiting to be unleashed at his command. He turned to the captain of the Magitek troops.

"Now listen to me, Captain," Kefka nearly spat, "I don't care what you or your soldiers do here. Your sole mission is to _get me that Esper_!"

The captain was an honorable man who had learned much about making war from General Leo, a man he idolized, not like this painted fool. "But my Lord General, the civilians of Narshe are no threat to the Empire. It would be a massacre."

Kefka did not deem the man worthy enough to even look at. "Exterminate everyone," he said quietly.

The captain tried one more time. "But Narshe is neutral, General! They've ignored pleas from the Returners for help, and so they don't…"

This time Kefka whirled on the soldier and fixed him with a cold stare. The captain felt the fear go through his whole body, and which seemed to make even his bones get cold. "Idiot!" cried Kefka, "Now read my lips you moron! This is an order, dispose of everyone who opposes us, or the force will be looking for a new captain. Now march!"

The captain knew that his time was over. This wasn't what he had signed up for. This is not what General Leo would have wanted for his soldiers to do. If only this madman would understand any of it.

* * *

The nine of them hurried through the northern part of the village, watching as the guards were evacuating the town's inhabitants as quickly as they could. The Marshal-Captain glared at seeing Terra and Locke, but quickly continued with his duties. As they made it into the foothills, Sabin moved to the front to forge as wide a trail through the snows as he could.

The winds were cold and harsh, biting into skin, stinging eyes, and chapping lips. Snow continued to fall lightly, but once caught by the wind could thrown into their faces. Terra, Celes, and Gau had draped themselves in warm furs, while Edgar and Cyan were both kept warm by several layers of robes and their armor. Locke and Sabin wore lighter coats of leather.

Edgar ended up behind Celes, and took a moment to admire the view. He considered himself fortunate that both young ladies in the group were extremely attractive. He would have a fun time convincing either one to join him for some private time in the royal bedroom back in Figaro. Then again, as Terra might incinerate him and Celes could probably turn his blood to ice just by looking at him, maybe flirting should be the limit.

Taking a few quicker steps, he came up alongside Celes. She turned to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"So," he began uncomfortably, "you were an Imperial general, huh?"

"That's right."

Edgar shrugged. This might be a little more difficult than he'd thought. "You know, umm… Locke has a pretty complicated past. I've got some trouble thinking he'd go after someone like you. I just… well I don't want you think he's fallen for you, or something."

The young woman appeared to be confused for a moment, then understanding appeared in her eyes. She turned back to Edgar with an ice-cold smirk that sent chills down his spine. And it wasn't because of the sudden cold wind.

"Why would that concern you? I am a soldier of the Empire," she said, with as much arrogance and authority as she could muster, "not some love-starved twit! Never mention this again!"

Celes quickly moved away from him, pushing past Locke and then Gau. Edgar gave a low whistle. "Ouch. Cold as ice."

Celes pushed her way through the others, ignoring any of their protests. Eventually she found herself walking along next to Terra. She felt the green-haired girl staring at her, as though trying to recognize her. Neither one of them seemed to notice the biting wind. Celes had never been bothered by the cold, and Terra… well, there was certainly a fire raging behind those emerald eyes.

"Locke has spoken about you a great deal," said Celes, "I know that you were born with the gift of magic. Yet you have amnesia, and have forgotten all you know of magic's bounties. Isn't it such a lovely gift? The power to do what others consider impossible?"

Terra's eyes widened in surprise. Of all the people that Terra had met on this journey, this halfway familiar ice-queen was the last person she would have expected to know anything about magic.

"You… you can use magic, too?" stammered Terra. Perhaps this other girl could help unlock some of the secrets within her, and maybe answer some questions that Terra felt deep in her heart.

Celes looked straight in front of her. The look on her face confused Terra, unable to tell if the blond was proud or pained as she spoke.

"When I was just a baby, Gestahl's scientists artificially infused the power of magic into me. From that day forward I was raised as a Magitek knight. I was to be the symbol of Gestahl's power. The personification of his will. Nothing else, _no one_ else, was deemed worthy enough to even matter."

Terra began to wonder if she had ever been like Celes. Did she have a family somewhere that might be waiting for her? Or was she alone, raised only to be a weapon of war?

_If I get my memories back_, wondered Terra, _will I become like Celes? Will I be as cold to everyone? Will I feel anything?_

Lost in her musings, Terra didn't pay attention where she was going and nearly tripped. Celes gave a quick save and kept Terra on her feet.

"Thanks," she breathed, "Celes, have you… I mean. Have you ever… you know… loved anyone?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Celes.

Embarrassed, Terra muttered something under her breath and then broke away from Celes. As the former general watched her move away, she didn't see Cyan come up from behind her and forcefully grab her upper arm. Celes' head whipped around and fixed the elder knight with a cold stare, one which was easily returned.

"Do not make the mistake in thy thinking that thou art trusted by me," advised Cyan, "Perhaps the others believe thee because thou hath joined the Returners, but I am not so blind. Treachery once, can lead to treachery again."

Celes wrenched her arm out of his grasp. "Fine. Use your own eyes after this is over, and then you can decide for yourself."

Ahead of the others, Banon hurried forward, to where Sabin was forging a path through the snow.

"At one time, I was truly afraid that you would never pick sides in this war," he said to the martial arts master.

"At one time," said Sabin slowly, "you would have been right. Long ago, in the beginning, a part of me thought that Gestahl's dream sounded reasonable. I couldn't bring myself to accept his offer or to fight him."

Banon nodded thoughtfully. "Long ago, Gestahl's dream _was_ reasonable."

"The best intentions," muttered Sabin in agreement, pushing the snow to the side without thought, "Master Duncan used to say that good men could often be corrupted for having the best intentions. He would tell us that a man's intentions cannot justify his actions. Your actions must always be in harmony with justice and temperance."

"Gestahl's peace was once a noble goal," commented Banon.

Sabin's eyes hardened. "Peace without justice becomes tyranny. That is what Gestahl's _peace_ has brought to the world."

Banon looked closely at the younger man. His brother-in-law had chosen a fine man to trust with the future of the Ironhand legacy. Sabin had a strong sense of justice, a lust for freedom and the right of people to make their own choices. Maybe it came from his connection to the lifestream, a connection he had shared with Duncan. Banon had to wonder if his nephew Vargas would have been like Sabin had he learned the secrets of the Blitz, the secrets of becoming one with the lifestream. It didn't matter now. Vargas had betrayed his father, leaving Sabin as the last of the Ironhands. Though he might never bear the name, indeed, Sabin didn't feel as though he was _worthy_ of the name, Banon knew that Sabin was worthy of the thousand-year legacy. He would be as great a hero as Duncan had been, perhaps greater.

"He'd be proud, Sabin," Banon said to the younger man, "Duncan could not have made a better choice than making you his heir. I know of what Gestahl offered to you and Vargas, and threats he made. It took great courage for you to stand up to him at that young age. Even that long ago, I think you'd convinced Duncan that you should be the heir of the Ironhand."

Sabin nodded his head in thanks. The wounds on his spirit from Vargas' betrayal and Duncan's death would likely never heal. Hatred for Vargas still burned furiously in his heart, but Sabin had long ago learned to channel his passion rather than let his passion control him. He could only hope that Vargas had taken his last breath in the Sabil Mountains.

"Hey Sabin!" called Locke, "Elder Kendrik and some of the others need to rest."

Coming to a narrowed part of the mountain path, Sabin brought the group to a halt. Elder Kendrik immediately slid down to sit on a large rock, trying to catch his breath. Cyan and Edgar hunched over to catch their breath. Sabin and Gau stood on the edge of the cliff and looked down into the valley.

"What can you see?" asked Edgar.

"Waroo! Many little men!" called Gau.

"They've broken up into teams," explained Sabin, "and they've split up, each team taking a separate path up the mountain."

"We have to go down and meet them," said Celes quickly. Several turned towards her with questioning looks. She knew she had to explain. "Right now they are divided, and each team is relatively small. We can take them on individually. But if we wait until they get up here, then they will regroup and once again have the advantage of numbers. We must go on the offensive."

"All right," said Edgar, "Terra, Celes, Sabin, the four of us will go down and make the assault. Locke, Gau, Cyan, the three of you stay here with Banon and Elder Kendrik to protect them."

Cyan immediately saw the logic of the decision and nodded, despite not liking having the Imperials out of his sight.

"Why us?" asked Locke.

"Because your talents don't lend themselves to a direct assault against Imperial soldiers," replied Celes.

"If any soldiers make it past us then you'll need Cyan's experience and sword arm," elaborated Sabin.

"And snow covered mountains don't seem to be Gau's terrain of choice," finished Terra, casting a glance at the young boy, who despite the heavy furs on his shoulders was still shivering in the cold wind.

Locke clearly seemed disappointed, not happy at all at being left behind. But he could find no fault with their logic.

"Well, will you at least let _one_ group get past you for us to fight?" he asked with a grin.

The young Returners were fortunate that the majority of Kefka's forces had been sent into the mines to kill the townspeople. Kefka's arrogance might make it easier for them, and they didn't have to be too worried about the rest of the army. After the last invasion, Elder Kendrik explained, he and the Marshal-Captain found long-forgotten plans for the defenses and hiding places within the mines. Defenses that hadn't been needed in Narshe since before the Urthmen War.

Two hours after they had left Elder Kendrik's home, the four of them encountered the first enemy soldiers. There were only ten of them, their dark uniforms standing out in the pure white snow. Edgar had elected to stay with his autocrossbow, firing repeatedly at several soldiers, the heavy steel bolts piercing armor as though it wasn't even there. Terra chose to use her magic to begin, letting the fires erupt from her hand at the soldiers before her. Sabin chose to keep them at bay, summoning strength from the depths of his spirit and the power of nature, then releasing in a beam of pure good spiritual energy that could vaporize a man.

As the four of them continued to make their way down the mountain, they continued to face the Imperial soldiers and their Magitek-infused hounds. The warriors of the Empire were skilled, and against ordinary opponents would have been nearly unstoppable. But these four heroes were not ordinary opponents.

Only one of the Imperial teams made it past them, but they were certain that Locke and the others would be more than capable of stopping them. The concern of these four was now to get to Kefka and stop him from bringing any more pain to the world.

Finally they reached him. Quite unexpectedly, as they rounded they saw Kefka, guarded by only a token number of soldiers; nowhere near enough to deter the four warriors.

Edgar let loose with a volley from his autocrossbow while the others leapt into battle. Terra and Celes met the soldiers with their blades flashing, but Sabin ran straight through them, his eyes seeing only a tunnel with Kefka at the far end. Before the villainous general could react, Sabin slashed across his chest with his claws, leaving a trio of bloody cuts.

Kefka cried out in pain and took several steps backwards. Edgar took the time to finish off the soldiers.

"You _bloody_ fools!" screamed Kefka, "You cannot hope to… Terra. It has been too long, my dear. Far too long for you to be out of my grasp. Tell me, how did you manage to overcome the power of the Slave Crown, hmm?"

Terra stared at the foolish-looking, but still terrifying general in shock and horror. "You… you were the one who controlled me."

Kefka let loose with a maniacal laugh. "Of course I did! The old fool Gestahl was right for once. He knew that the coward Leo would never make use of your full potential. Hahaha! And General Celes, you are more of a bloody fool than even Leo, daring to defy Emperor Gestahl. You should know what happens to people like that. After all, did you not take care of those protesters last year personally? Mwa hahaha!"

Celes hung her head in shame. She knew that Kefka, though malignant and insane, spoke the truth. She _had_ been responsible for permanently silencing dozens of people who had protested against the Emperor's campaign of conquest. At the time, she'd been certain Gestahl had been right, it was a necessary evil to protect the righteousness of the Empire. What else could she have believed? Her entire life had been a lesson that Emperor Gestahl was right and his dream of a world united under his rule was worth any sacrifice of morality.

But in her mind, Celes knew it was no excuse. She had to wonder if she would ever be capable of escaping the sins of her past.

"King Edgar," continued Kefka, "How is your lovely Figaro? I hear that there are more Imperial soldiers in South Figaro than there are Figarans. Have my men torched the city yet? No? Oh well, it's only a matter a time. I must say the women of your kingdom are lovely. Figaro should serve well as an Imperial outpost. Perhaps we could make it a recreation area for soldiers who have been without female company for too long."

Edgar's face burned with rage and hatred, his finger inching every closer to his weapon's trigger. He had ruled his father's kingdom for ten years, the latest member of his family wear the crown of Figaro. It was his home, and the people who called him their king trusted him to ensure their safety. Edgar was willing to die for Figaro; he was more than ready to kill this arrogant villain for Figaro.

"And dear Sabin," Kefka went on, "you should have accepted Gestahl's more than generous offer. If you had, I might have left your mentor alive. It was delightful to see his heart break when we told him that his own son had betrayed him to us. Duncan's struggle was so feeble, one has to wonder how he gained renown as the greatest warrior in the world."

Fury burned in Sabin's heart. Duncan had been more than his master, he had taught Sabin everything in his life that was worth knowing. He had been a mentor, a guide, and a father. Sabin drew in the calming energy of the lifestream. Duncan would never have condoned vengeance.

_Revenge is for the proud and the weak, Sabin_, Duncan had once told him, _Those who are strong know that revenge will never bring peace to one's heart. Vengeance brings nothing but death._

"You will not survive this war, Kefka," growled Sabin, "You will pay for your crimes. You may live until tomorrow, or the next day, or next year. But before this war is over I will stand over your corpse."

Kefka smirked. "Bold words, Sabin. I look forward to ramming them down your throat."

The five warriors all stood ready, and the battle was joined.

Kefka drew his sword and charged, while Sabin ran at the general full tilt. Edgar let loose with his autocrossbow, but Kefka's armor managed to protect him for the most part. Terra let the flames erupt from her palm to strike at Kefka, while Celes eyes seemed to gain a coating of ice, and frost began to cover spread up Kefka's legs. Both spells were enough to make the maniac pause momentarily, and Sabin used the opportunity to make his move.

Opening himself to the lifestream, Sabin focused the energy for a Blitz, and then he exploded into terrific speed. He could see Kefka's life-force spring from a point just below his heart, and Sabin lashed out with a furious series of blows. They came with speed granted from nature, in such harmony and coordination that they were merely a blur to the others. The attack would have killed four lesser men.

But Kefka, in his own way, was an extraordinary individual, and though Sabin's final kick sent the villain flying back, Kefka survived.

Edgar had just finished reloading his autocrossbow when a sudden pain in his leg made him cry out. Sticking out of his thigh was an arrow.

"To General Kefka!"

Sabin turned to see a large force of soldiers charging them just before one of the Magitek hounds pounced on him. The creature was the size of lion, with jaws even wider. Plate armor seemed to grow out its very skin, protecting its shoulders and torso. Momentarily weakened from the Blitz, the giant hound knocked Sabin to the ground, then snapped its jaws shut around him.

Sabin screamed in pain, and then the hound threw him into the center of the group like a child's doll.

Three swordsmen had descended on Edgar before he could draw his own weapon. One of them cut him across his forehead, and the dripping blood clouded his vision before the other two fell on him and began to beat him with their fists.

Terra and Celes faced the rest of the soldiers, letting loose with their magical powers. Fire streamed across the battlefield, and soldiers froze into place as they became covered in frost. But the two women could not keep the dozens of soldiers at range for long, and soon they found themselves back-to-back.

Celes' swordsmanship was remarkable, but suddenly she felt Terra stumble back into her, obviously having parried a very powerful strike. But this in turn knocked Celes slightly off-balance, and the soldiers surrounding the two women took the opportunity to strike at her arms and legs.

One soldier managed to slice lengthwise down Celes' forearm, and her body's natural reflex had her dropping her sword to the ground. Immediately she was hit over the head with a sword pommel, falling to her knees. A moment later, she felt Terra fall beside her, an ugly gash across her back. Someone had attacked her from behind.

Edgar and Sabin were dragged over to them. As the soldiers backed off, Edgar managed to tear off a strip of his robes, tying it over his forehead to halt the bleeding from blocking his sight. Sabin tried to push himself onto his knees, but Celes could see what the Magitek hound's bite had done to him. She doubted that a weaker man would have survived it.

Kefka pushed his way through the soldiers. Only a dozen or so survived, plus the hound, out of the 50-60 that had attacked them to start.

"Do you see your folly?" jeered Kefka, "You are no match for me, because I have an _empire_ behind me! Mwa hahaha! I shall have you all made into examples for the world to see how pathetic you are. Edgar, we will lock you away in your own dungeons. Sabin, we keep you on the brink of death for the rest of your days. Celes, you will become a slave to our whim. And Terra, sweet little slave Terra, you will help us finish conquering the world! Then, and only then, will we be merciful enough and _execute you_!"

He erupted into maniacal laughter, and the soldiers around them joined in.

Sabin felt the rage building within him. _He will not do this to them!_ He could not let Kefka harm them! The fires within him began to build. He had always felt the fire, had used its power to drive him to greater strength, to fight against evil. Most people equated fire with destruction, but Sabin also knew fire was purifying. A forest fire might destroy much, but it was necessary to remove that which could harm the forest. Fire was a part of nature, it was a fact he could not deny. And within the depths of his spirit, the fires grew.

_Burn him, Sabin_, he seemed to hear as the power of the lifestream coursed through his wounded body, _Burn him with the fires of your spirit._

And so Sabin took the fires within himself and pushed them outwards with a roar that carried the power of all predators.

Edgar turned quickly as his brother cried out, and was shocked to see Sabin's skin seem to glow red, like the burning embers of a fire. A wave of heat passed over them and Edgar started to sweat, then there was a second wave.

The second wave of heat was like an inferno. The snow around them vaporized in an instant and the ground baked as though a desert sun had shone overhead for centuries. The soldiers began to scream in pain as steam rose from their open mouths, their eyes, and their ears. The Magitek hound howled as the plates in its skin seemed to melt and burn away its skin.

Kefka felt his skin sizzle and burn, and watched in horror as his fingers began to char. Screaming, he fled as fast as his feet would take him. His victory had been snatched away! He would make them pay for this humiliation!

_I will not forget this!_ he raged to himself, _They haven't won anything!_

Moments later, the heat vanished. Edgar and Celes looked around. Every soldier was dead, their skin was charred black and steam still rose from their bodies. Some of the clothes they wore were still smoldering.

Edgar turned to Sabin, who was gazing at the bodies with a calm look to his eyes. The two brothers met each other's gaze, but Edgar couldn't find any words. Had Sabin done this?

"Potions," Sabin said calmly, then promptly pulled one out of his backpack and quickly drank the contents, and the bite marks faded quickly.

Edgar did the same, but he saw Celes lay her left hand over the cut down her forearm. A soft glow shone against her arm, and when Celes pulled her hand away, the wound had healed.

"Magic," said Edgar with a rueful smile.

Sabin poured a potion down Terra's throat, then helped her up as the wound across her back closed.

"Where's Kefka?" wondered Terra, looking around for the villain.

"He's gone," answered Celes, "We should get back to Locke and the others. They're probably worried about us by now. We should relieve their fear."

Edgar had one question before they left. "Sabin, did you…"

"The Blitzes are powerful," said Sabin with a nod, "That, was my Fire Aura."

* * *

"Terra, are you all right?" asked Sabin. She hadn't said a word for twenty minutes after beginning the trek back up the mountain; she just kept staring at the ground.

"That has to be… the most evil man I have ever met," she said, her voice revealing her horror. "To know that there is a possibility I served him, and obeyed his orders… I can only imagine what terrible atrocities I've committed."

"Terra, you need to understand that you haven't done anything wrong," said Sabin, putting a hand on her shoulder, "you've been the victim of that madman's evil. Kefka is a monster of the greatest order; he revels in chaos and destruction. He enjoys the destruction not only of our lives, but also of our minds and everything we love and hold dear. We will be here for you, Terra. I promise you that."

Terra gave him a weak smile. "Yeah, I've already had people saying they won't let anything happen to me."

"Well I won't be making that promise," he replied, "I can't and won't guarantee that nothing will happen. However, I can guarantee that I'll be there for you. If you need a friend, a confidante, or a shoulder, I will do all I can for you."

Terra looked up at Sabin's face. His eyes were softer than she'd seen before, even when they were in the Returners' hideout in Mt. Kolts. She could still tell that others feared her, that she was a mystery they were worried about solving. Heck, sometimes she even scared herself, but Sabin clearly was not afraid of her. Terra wondered if he feared anything.

She had seen the look in Edgar and Celes, however. For the moment, Terra was certain they were more afraid of Sabin.

"You know, I'm really glad you're on our side," she told Sabin, who smiled, "I just can't help thinking that there will be people out in the world that will see me as a villain because of what I've done. Or they'll see me as a monster because of my… my abilities."

Sabin laughed heartily. "If it's universal love you're waiting for, Terra, then you'll probably be dead long before you get it. If I had a piece of silver for every time someone had spat on me or insulted me, I would have a big pile of silver outside my hut. Even being a student of Master Duncan won't make you accepted by everyone. You can't worry about what people will think about you. You just have to accept it, and not let it bother you. The only opinions that should matter are the opinions of your friends. And if we truly are your friends, then your abilities don't make you a monster to us. If they did, heck, we'd all be monsters. Edgar would probably be the richest monster, but I still doubt he could pick up a girl that didn't want to be a king's playmate."

Terra couldn't help herself from giggling, and the pall of her poor mood was broken. She smiled up at Sabin and gave him a fierce bearhug. He returned it with a tender smile.

* * *

"Waroo! They come!" cried Gau. He was hunched on a rock overlooking the path down the mountain. Years of surviving alone in the plains of the Veldt had given the young boy the keen senses of the animals. What would just have been specks to another human's eyes were clear images to him.

Banon finished using his healing powers on Locke. The group of Imperial soldiers that had made it to their lookout had been quite skilled. Gau had surrendered to his rage, and paid to attention to tactics. He simply hammered away at an enemy until he was dead. If Locke were to admit it, he wasn't the best fighter in the world, especially in a stand-up fight. That had left only Cyan to go head to head with the Imperials. The older man was a masterful swordsman, and years of developing his own special techniques had helped to dispatch the soldiers rather quickly. Locke however, had tried to go toe-to-toe with a pair of soldiers, only to get cut up rather badly until Gau had used a claw swipe rage against them.

Now the other four were finally returning.

"Sir Sabin," greeted Cyan, "how didst your battle with the villainous Kefka end?"

"The bloody bastard escaped," answered Edgar dejectedly.

"He who fights and runs away…" said Sabin.

Locke nodded. "Yeah, I think we all know the rest of _that_ one."

Banon turned to Elder Kendrik. "I think it's time we stop wasting time. The sooner we get to the Esper, the better. If anyone can help make sense of it, and be able to protect us at the same time, Terra and the rest are the ones."

Elder Kendrik sighed. Even after leading them into the mountains, he'd still held some hope that this could all be swept aside. But there was no chance of that anymore. The time had come.

"Very well," he said sadly, "follow me."

* * *

The trek to get closer to the summit was slightly more treacherous, as the snow fell heavier here and the higher winds limited vision to less than ten feet at some points. Elder Kendrik led them into a passage that took them out to a ledge that was protected from the heavy winds by the mountain cliffs. The triangular ledge jutted out perhaps a hundred feet from the tunnel exit. Past the edge was a straight drop of several hundred feet.

Towards the end of the ledge was the Esper. Its body was obscured by the ice that completely encased it, but from what they could tell, the Esper looked something like a cross between a bird and a dragon out of the storybooks.

Terra looked at it, her mouth ajar in awe at the creature. Recognition rose in her mind, a sense that she had seen this creature before, but Terra could remember no specifics.

"That was far too close of a call," commented Edgar as they formed a loose group around the Esper, "Kefka and his fellow maniacs made it much too close."

Cyan was keeping a respective distance from the Esper, even as he tried to get a better view. "Is it possible that thou creature remains alive?" he wondered.

"It can't be alive," said Sabin, his eyes narrowing as he looked closer, "I mean it's got to be a thousand years old, at least. It would be impossible for it to survive that long. Right?"

Terra stared deeply at the frozen creature. The power emanating from the Esper went right into her very bones. The fire in her blood began to rage uncontrolled. She found it impossible to concentrate, and so she took a few steps back.

_Come… come child…_

Locke saw Terra move out of the corner of his eye, and he walked up to her. "Terra?" he said to her, but he got no response, "Terra, what is it?"

Suddenly, light flashed from the Esper. Everyone had to blink several times to clear their eyes. All except for Terra, who continued to stare unblinking at the Esper. A moment later, a blast of blue-white lightning leapt from the Esper to the ground around them, forcing everyone back. Terra remained motionless.

Sabin wanted to reach for his claws, but was worried that the Esper was still conscious and functioning. He didn't want to provoke it.

"That Esper," he whispered to himself, "Terra?"

"There's some kind of reaction!" cried Edgar, backing up a few steps.

Locke shook his head as he watched the Esper continue to emit light. He couldn't believe it. Why was it targeting Terra?

Terra took a few steps closer to the Esper as she peered deeply into it. A field of blue energy suddenly surrounded the Esper, and a moment later, surrounded Terra as well. Locke reached out to touch her, but a small bolt of lightning jolted into him, forcing him a few steps back.

"What?" breathed Terra, her eyes never leaving the Esper, "What am I feeling! What's going on? What do you want?"

She paused for a moment, pain and confusion clear on her face. She looked desperately at the ancient creature.

"Tell me!" she screamed, "Who am I! Who!"

Locke tried to impose himself between Terra and the Esper, but some unnatural force prevented him from approaching.

"Terra!" he cried.

Suddenly another blast of lightning shot out of the Esper, striking Locke full in the chest. He flew backwards into the cliff wall, then slid to the ground unconscious. Celes knelt next to him to make sure he was alright. Except for a light bump on the back of his head, there was nothing to worry about.

Celes began to shake her head. An immense pressure seemed to settle on her mind, forcing its way past her intensive mental training. She began to hear something, something that could make no sound.

"The Esper," she gasped, causing everyone to turn and look at her, "I can _feel_ it… I can actually feel its mind."

"What do you mean?" demanded Cyan.

"I was infused with the power of the Espers," explained Celes, "Part of me is reacting to its power. I can't explain it! I don't know what it is that I feel!"

"It doesn't matter!" cried Edgar. He looked at the creature that held his friend so firmly in its mystical grasp. He had to help free her from this thing. "Terra! If you can hear me, get away from the Esper!"

Sabin felt power gather in the lifestream, and knew instantly that whatever was going to happen, would happen right now.

Beams of blue-white light shot out from the Esper. They circled in the air overhead before swooping down and surrounding Terra. The light spun around her, climbing into the sky. Her bright green hair flew out of its ponytail and floated about as if in a non-existent wind. The light became brighter and brighter until everyone had to shut their eyes against it.

When the light died away, everyone gasped. Where Terra had stood only moments before, there was a figure of her general height. However, this figure had light, pinkish glowing skin, and solid milky-white eyes. Her hair floated behind her, bobbing and waving in an unearthly manner.

"Terra…" breathed Edgar.

The figure stared at each of them in turn, then suddenly let out an ear-piercing shriek, forcing them to cover their ears. With a nearly explosive burst of power, she rose from the ground, soaring up into the air. She circled the air once, then shot off towards the west.

Celes could only stare after her in awe.

Terra was gone.


	13. Chapter 11: Specters of the Past

Well, another eon later and yet another post comes up. Thanks to everyone for their reviews. MogGuy, you should know by now (shakes head sadly). All 12 of the main characters will make it into my work, so don't worry, everyone's favorite little white ball of dancing fuzz will have his day.

Riny, thanks for your compliments, I always appreciate reading them.

To new reviewer ST218, thank you for joining the ranks of my readers. I will confess, I did steal a little (just a little, mind you), from Wheel of Time for the profanity. Hope it doesn't bug you. I love you comment that you appreciate getting the expansion of the characters. You commented that Sabin got too much screen time for being a minor character. My reply is this: he _was_ a minor character, but I always thought there was so much more that could be done with him and never was. This is my retake, and yes, he's the main character of my FF stories, and yes, he's a lot more powerful in most cases. I've just had so many scenes in my head that expanded on the characters, and expansions on Sabin came a lot easier to me. But I do hope to provide sufficient expansion for the rest of the characers, I hope you continue to review and provide honest feedback on whether I am doing so.

To everyone else, I hope you continue to read and review. Once more… thank you and enjoy.

* * *

With sleep, came dreams. With dreams, came nightmares. In the nightmares, there were memories.

Memories of happiness, of loss, and of failure. Voices and images passed through his mind, reminding him of earlier times, both good and bad, but never long enough to grab onto one and hold onto it.

A girl's voice, rich in happiness and vitality, with just a hint of teasing.

"You _are_ the world's best treasure hunter!"

He'd always said that himself, but it felt so much better when it came from her lips.

"I will! I'll be happy to marry you!"

With those words came the memory of how much joy he'd felt, how content he was. He could remember how perfect the world was.

Then the images shifted, became more real. She was there behind him, her golden curls falling softly about her shoulders, her emerald eyes sparkling in the light. The joy at seeing her happy melted into fear and despair as he watched the wooden bridge beneath her vanish, and she began to fall.

_No! Not again!_

He reached for her, but she was too far away.

"RACHEL!"

* * *

Locke's eyes snapped open, and he would have sat straight up if not for the pain that flared in his back. Looking around, he found himself in bed. He began to recognize several of the trinkets on the shelves. He was in Arvis' house.

A moment later a shadow fell across the room. Locke tried to turn and look, but the figure moved too fast, sitting on the bed next to him. It was Celes, her normally cold blue eyes were warmer than he'd remembered, filled with concern.

"Were you dreaming?" she asked quietly.

Locke shook his head as he forced himself to sit up. "Nightmare," he answered simply.

Celes nodded gently. "You've been moaning and thrashing about for the last hour. Have you been in pain? Sabin said to keep you cool, use a damp rag whenever you began to sweat too much."

"_Sabin_ said?" repeated Locke sarcastically, "When did he become a certified healer?"

"If it makes you feel any better, Banon said the same thing when Edgar asked him," she replied, a satisfied smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

Locke ran a hand over his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to clear away the last of the cobwebs from his head. "What time is it?"

"Daytime," answered a new voice. Locke and Celes turned to see Edgar standing in the doorway, relief on his features. "It's mid-morning. You've been out all night."

"Have you been eavesdropping?" growled Celes.

Edgar flashed her one of his heart-melting smiles. "Fear not, gorgeous. I won't reveal any tender moments to our fellows. Your secrets are safe with me."

Locke and Celes both swallowed hard at that, not quite believing the Figaran king. But there were more important things to discuss.

"Terra. What happened to Terra?" asked Locke. He didn't miss Celes and Edgar sharing an uncomfortable look with each other before Celes answered.

"Terra… is gone," she said, her face contorted as she tried to explain what they had seen the day before, "She… she changed into… _something_! She looked… almost like an Esper."

"WHAT!" cried Locke.

Edgar took a few steps into the room, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "There seemed to be some kind of connection between Terra and the Esper," he elaborated, "We can't figure out just what it was, but that Esper changed her somehow. Whatever she became, it wasn't herself. She flew into the sky off towards the west, towards Kohlingen."

Locke swallowed hard at the mention of his hometown. His breath quickened and became shallow as his mind began to race faster than a chocobo. "We've got to go, then! I… I promised her that I…"

"Calm down," ordered Celes, the warmth in her eyes cooling quickly, "I'll help you into the other room. Banon and Sabin can then check the dressing on your head."

As Edgar left the room to tell the others, Locke's hand reached up and felt the bandages wrapped around his head. His bandanna, thankfully, was tied loosely about his throat. Celes supported more of his weight than he thought she could, which was a good thing since his legs were still asleep and weren't quite able to keep him upright.

In Arvis' main sitting room the rest of the group was standing about. Edgar and Arvis were both pacing back and forth, while Cyan stared deeply into the dancing flames within the fireplace. Banon sat in one of the chairs, stroking his beard thoughtfully, his eyes focused on something far, far beyond the walls of the house. Gau, meanwhile, was having a delightful time leaping from one piece of furniture to the other.

As Celes helped Locke fall into one of the other chairs, he saw Sabin swing in the door from the roof. Had he been meditating in the snow?

"All right people," began Edgar, not pausing or slowing in his stride, "We need to think this through. There's no doubt that Gestahl still wants that Esper, and more than likely he's going to come after it."

"Not for a while," Celes put in, "That was a fairly large battalion that Kefka brought here, and he's going back without a single person. The Emperor isn't about to waste men and materiel until he has a better idea of what he's facing."

"I agree with Celes," commented Banon, much to the surprise of the others, "Kefka isn't going to be able to explain his losses, so Gestahl may fear we already know how to use the power of the Esper. I think Narshe will be safe for a little while longer, especially now that Returner operatives are beginning to trickle in. Between my people and Narshe's guards, we should be able to hold off anything smaller than a full field army."

"We shan't leave Lady Terra to her fate," said Cyan quietly, "We must come to her aid."

"Gau want help pretty Miss Terra," agreed the boy.

"Witnesses said she was heading towards Kohlingen," commented Arvis, "but how are you going to get there? The mountain passes must still be clogged with snow. We haven't had _that_ warm of a summer so far."

"Figaro Castle," said Edgar, "We can make use of the subterranean tunnel system to take us under the Beldeth Mountains. There's an exit point two days to the southeast of Kohlingen. That's no trouble."

"Banon," said Sabin, speaking for the first time, "are you sure that you'll be all right here? If the Empire should attack, you have no back-up plan. You're too entrenched, rooted to this spot. You'll have given up the initiative to Gestahl."

"We still have strategic surprise on our side," countered old warrior, "and we can prepare several ambush points along through the canyons. We'll be enough to give any Imperial force a run for their money. Don't worry about us. Terra is the key to this war, she's more important to success than I am. Find her and help her, she'll need all of you to help."

Heads began to nod among the group, knowing in their hearts the truth of Banon's words. Locke firmly rose to his feet.

"Then let's go," he said, "We can't waste any more time."

"Take care of our thief, King Edgar," joked Arvis.

"Treasure hunter!" growled Locke.

* * *

They bundled up warmly for their trek out of the northern parts of the Meridi Mountains. Though it hadn't been a particularly warm summer yet, the snows had receded quite a bit. Now the ground was mostly muddy and what snow was left on the ground was usually less than ankle deep.

They made good time on their journey south. Sabin would pull away from the group an hour or two before making camp, and would always return with a few animals that he'd caught. There was always plenty for everyone to eat once he had skinned and cooked the creatures, adding a few herbs and spices to make each night's meal unique.

Celes made several snide remarks that it was good to see a man know his place, but Sabin was never far from a return barb, usually something regarding how meals cooked by Celes had probably been rejected by convicts.

The mountains soon gave way to the expansive plains of the north, with their low, rolling hills that gave them clear views for miles. Once or twice they ran into creatures of the wilderness, hoping to make a meal out of the heroes, but the battle skills of the group were more than a match for anything they ran into.

After five days of hard marching, days that began in the early morning and lasted well after sundown, they reached the Figaro Desert. At this point Sabin and Edgar took the forefront, leading the others past the massive sand dunes and rock formations with unerring accuracy. Many times, they spotted the massive bone worms and other giant desert creatures from a distance of many miles, and were able to lead the group around without incident. Most of the time they were even able to detect the telltale signs of araneids, the giant desert scorpions.

After two days within the desert sands, they could see Figaro Castle looming in the distance. The pace of the entire group quickened, finishing the journey in a couple hours. The guards at the gate opened up immediately for King Edgar and sent for Chancellor Paulus.

"King Edgar!" breathed the old man in astonishment when he arrived, "Praise the Ancients that you escaped capture."

"No, it is I who am blessed that my castle and the people remained unharmed," replied Edgar, "How go the repairs?"

"Excellent, your Majesty," replied Paulus, "The engines suffered no significant damage, and the castle itself sustained only superficial damage. Teams have been working night and day to bring all of the castle's defensive systems to full readiness. But enough of that, it is too good to see you home. I will have rooms prepared for all of your companions, and… By the Ancients! Prince Sabin! Do my eyes deceive me?"

Sabin smiled as everyone else's eyes widened at the title. They all knew that Edgar and Sabin were brothers, and that Edgar was a king. However, none of them had taken the next step in making the connection that such a situation would make Sabin royalty as well.

"You are not deceived, Chancellor," he replied, "It is good to see you again old friend. But we are exhausted, having marched many days from Narshe."

The Chancellor bowed quickly. "My apologies, Highness. The servants will take your gear."

Immediately, nearly ten servants came up to the group, helping remove armor, shoulder packs, and other gear. Sabin immediately left to meditate under the fading sun, while Cyan and Gau announced their intention to catch up on sleep. Edgar left quickly in the company of Chancellor Paulus to catch up on events within his kingdom.

That left Locke and Celes alone in the grand antechamber. Locke looked over at his blond companion nervously. Celes was looking about in astonishment at the marvelous wealth so casually displayed, and there was an eagerness in her eyes that belied her impassive face.

"Well," he began, "looks like it's just you and me, sweetheart."

Celes raised one eyebrow. "I hope we can get to Kohlingen as quickly as Edgar claims. I still have my doubts about this castle."

"What's making you so eager?" asked Locke with a chuckle.

In an instant, Celes' face went from stoic resolve to embarrassment. "I have never been there before," she answered quietly.

"You haven't?" he asked, genuinely amazed, "A seasoned general like yourself? I would've figured you'd been everywhere."

She swallowed hard. "I never had the power to choose what I wanted. Traveling because I wished to do so… it was never anything more than a foolish dream to me."

"But now that you're free to do as you like, you want to?" he pressed.

"Very much so," replied Celes eagerly, "I wish to travel and see this world from a new perspective, not just from behind an army. This world has so many treasures, and I wish to see them."

_Just like Rachel, _thought Locke, then instantly quashed it. He didn't need any more reminders about her, not now. He shook his head and smiled grandly.

"Well, why don't we start your new travels here at the castle," he suggested, "Edgar has magnificent gardens that I think you'd love."

* * *

An hour past midnight, and Figaro Castle slept peacefully. There were soldiers on every battlement, certainly, but the halls of the seat of Figaran power were quiet. Sabin wandered through the castle, allowing memories more than ten years old to rise to his consciousness.

He strolled through the ballrooms, remembering the balls and galas that his mother had arranged when she was still alive. He could barely remember her anymore, nothing more than glimpses of a woman whose beauty could never be properly captured in royal portraits. King Andris had enjoyed the private relationships he'd entertained with noblewomen and even the maids. Sabin had no illusions about his father's fidelity, but his parents had loved each other. And it seemed that Edgar had inherited their father's lecherousness.

_Ancients help the woman who marries Edgar,_ he thought with a grin.

Sabin could remember all the noblewomen at those balls fawning over him. He'd been eight when his mother, Queen Raehel died. The noblewomen had always been trying to get him to dance with one of their daughters, some of whom could have been a decade older than he. Sabin could remember hating the women who followed Edgar and his father around. They'd never had a problem with the ladies, but Sabin could only remember being manipulated, told how cute he was and all the rest of the bloody nonsense.

Sabin shook his head and smiled. Things had been so much simpler as a kid.

Without realizing it, his wanderings had brought him to the throne room. There they were. Made of exotic southern hardwoods inlaid with gold and gems. The soft cushions were bright crimson, matching the curtains that hung to either side.

For a brief moment, Sabin could almost see his parents sitting majestically upon the thrones. King Andris had redefined the word majesty, and though Queen Raehel had been as adept in politics and running Figaro as her husband, compassion and temperance were more her virtues. He walked up to the thrones, running his hand along the arm of the chair. He could almost remember having to jump in order to get up.

Slowly, gently, Sabin lowered himself into his father's throne.

The view was a lot different from this seat, he decided.

_The castle's hardly changed since I left_, thought Sabin, _Yet, everything's different. Mom and Dad are both gone. This is now Edgar's chair. Nothing's changed, and yet at the same time, everything's changed since that night._

* * *

Young Sabin, all of 13 summers old, spied on them through the door that one of them had left ajar. Four renowned healers, Chancellor Paulus, and Matron, who had raised him since his mother's death, were all crowded together in the royal bedchamber. His ears strained to listen to their words.

"He's taken a turn for the worse today," said one of the healers.

One of the others agreed. "It's doubtful he'll survive the night."

Sabin's breathing became raw and ragged. It couldn't be! Mom was already gone, what would he do without Dad?

Chancellor Paulus, though in his 60's, was still a strong and vital man. He turned to his King, now sick and dying. "He still hasn't named Prince Edgar his heir. We need to know who he wants to rule Figaro."

Sabin stared at the old man in shock. King Andris was dying, and Chancellor Paulus had been his friend for more than 30 years. Could the man think of nothing more than who was going to rule? Was he so desperate to stay within arm's reach of power?

Then he turned to Matron. She still had some strands of brown in her mostly gray hair, but her face belonged to a much younger woman. Why wasn't she saying something? Why wasn't she saying that the boys should be with their father? Was she also so concerned about who was going to rule? Did it matter to any of them that his father was dying?

Suddenly, Sabin could see his father move slightly. One of the healers moved closer and leaned in.

"My lady, he asked to speak with you alone. The rest of us he asked to leave," said the healer, and soon all the men began moving towards the doors.

Sabin hid in one of the alcoves as Chancellor Paulus led the rest out. Sabin almost choked when he saw that Edgar had been in there with the rest of them. Why hadn't he said anything! Why hadn't he brought Sabin in there!

"You can't leave him!" screamed Sabin, unable to stay quiet any longer. All of the men turned in surprise. "Edgar, its Dad! I want to see him!"

"No Sabin," said his older brother, now 17 summers, "Trust me, its better this way."

"For who!" raged the young prince, "For you! For the rest of these sand vipers!"

Unable to contain his tears any longer and not wishing to be seen as a child, Sabin turned and ran, ignoring his brother's cries for him to stop. He raced through the throne room and up the winding staircase leading to the castle's highest tower. It was one of his favorite places to come and think. No one ever came up here.

The moon hung high above the sands, like a drop of sparkling silver against the blackness. The cold night air high him like a punch, stealing his breath. It halted his tears for just a moment, then they began to flow again, and Sabin could not stop sobbing into his hands.

"Sabin?"

It was Edgar's voice, but Sabin kept his back to his older brother.

"Dad looks… he looks awful," said Edgar, hesitatingly, "I didn't think you should see him like that. You should keep his memory as you know him, not as he looks now."

Looking at his father's pale, gaunt features had nearly sent Edgar into tears at the time, so out different from the strong, vital, healthy man he'd always been. Now he had to stay strong, he had to protect his little brother.

"Edgar? Sabin?" said a voice, and both boys turned to see Matron standing in the doorway. Her eyes were red from crying, and she looked drawn and haggard. "Your father… he's gone."

Sabin tried to keep a brave face, but the tears flowed anyway. Even Edgar couldn't stop a few from falling.

"Your father's last words were for the two of you," she continued, "He said that he loved you both, and that his last wish was for the two of you to rule Figaro. Together."

Matron's words stirred something in Sabin at that moment. Grief and anger grew into an inferno of rage. "That's all _nonsense_!" he yelled, the sheer force in his voice causing both Edgar and Matron to take a step backwards, "I've overheard the nobles talking. Everyone is saying that the Empire poisoned Dad because he's their greatest threat, even though he's Gestahl's ally. Now the only thing on your minds is 'who's going to be the next king?' You're all _pathetic_!"

Sabin seemed to shrink in on himself after that last outburst, and he was quieter when he spoke again. "No one cared when Mom died, either."

"That's not true!" protested Matron.

But Sabin whirled on her. "You were as bad as any of them!"

"Sabin…" said Edgar quietly, but he didn't know what else to say. All he could do was rest a hand on his little brother's shoulder. He could feel Sabin trembling, but whether from grief or anger, Edgar couldn't tell.

"An Empire of murderers," growled Sabin with all the humanity of an angry lion, "they won't get away with this."

Edgar turned to look at Matron, whose face had gone deathly pale. He knew that Sabin's comments about Mom had hit home. Matron had been their mother's advisor for as long as she'd been Queen, and after she'd died, it had been Matron who had raised them, preparing both of them for the life of royalty. She had done a great job, Edgar knew, even with Sabin who'd been so much younger and completely uninterested in her lessons on history, dancing, and court etiquette.

"Matron, please leave us alone for a few moments," said Edgar quietly. He waited for the older woman to bow and leave before he spoke again. "I know you hate the Empire, Sabin. But we have to be careful. Figaro isn't strong enough to fight them. We have to maintain Dad's alliance or Figaro will be crushed. Neither of us can let that happen."

"I'm outta here," spat the younger prince, "I'm forsaking this submissive realm for my dignity. My freedom. You told me a few weeks ago that you were sick of trying to be a ruler too, right?"

Edgar sighed. He hated ruling, he just wanted to enjoy being royalty. The freedom to do whatever he wanted. He wanted to stare across the desert and think about the possibilities.

But instead, he turned and looked his younger brother in the eye. "What will happen to this realm if we _both_ leave? Our family founded Figaro. We've been its rulers for more than five centuries. What would Dad say if we abandoned it? The people of Figaro look up to us to do what's right, to protect them from people like Emperor Gestahl. What would Dad say if we left them?"

Sabin bit his lip. He couldn't stand the castle anymore, he couldn't stand the nobles, he couldn't stand ruling. There was nothing more left for him. But what Edgar was saying made sense. How could he fail Dad?

With a deep breath, Edgar pulled something out of his pocket. It was a gold coin, just like all the other countless coins of Figaro.

"We'll settle this tonight, here, and now," began Edgar, "We'll do it with the toss of a coin. If its heads, you win. You can leave without regrets, and choose to be whoever or whatever you want to be. Tails, and we both stay. For Figaro."

Sabin nodded, and the coin went up into the air, spinning end over end, reflecting the moonlight…

* * *

"And then you chose your freedom," said Edgar, jolting Sabin out of his reverie.

Edgar walked out from his private office just off the throne room, smiling. Sabin rose immediately so Edgar could sit in the King's Throne, but instead, Edgar waved his brother to sit back down. Then he strolled around and sat down in their mother's chair. He looked over at his brother.

"You know," he said slowly, "when we were younger, Dad wanted you to sit in that chair. Not me. Not by a long shot."

"You can't be serious," replied Sabin.

Edgar nodded, grinning. He closed his eyes, remembering. "Oh I'm serious. He and Mom always thought I was too much of a playboy. They thought I'd just like to hang out with Locke, chase girls, and basically make myself a nuisance. You were always the studious one, the serious one. Dad thought you'd make a great king."

"You've been a better one," said Sabin with all the sincerity in the world.

Edgar chuckled and leaned back. "Ten years, Sabin. We've been separated for ten… long years. My little shrimp of a brother turned into a whopping lobster."

"And you're a king crab, all looks and no brains," retorted Sabin, grinning.

Both brothers chuckled quietly, then fell into an easy silence. Both listened to the stillness of the castle, each lost in their own thoughts and memories.

"Sometimes," Edgar said, several minutes later, "sometimes I wonder, would Dad be proud of me?"

Sabin turned to look more fully. "Don't you ever doubt it. I've seen the way the people look at you, Ed. They don't just see a king in an ivory tower. They see a man, a comrade, a friend. The people don't just respect and trust you to keep them safe… they love you."

He paused, and then continued. "I'm the one that should be asking that question. I left Figaro, I abandoned our people. Dad would be disgusted with me."

"Don't you _dare_ think like that," rasped Edgar, "Dad knew Master Duncan. You think he'd really be disgusted that his son became the heir of the Ironhand? You abandoned no one, Sabin. I've seen the look in your eyes, and know enough about Master Duncan. You've taken on the responsibility of protecting the entire world. You may never be a king, you may never rule, but you will be remembered. You will be remembered as a hero. Mom and Dad would _both_ be proud of you."

"Ten years," murmured Sabin, "It's been hard. I never realized what I had until I lost it. Both here and with Duncan. He gave me a new family, a new purpose in life, his respect and his love. Now I'm left to carry on the Ironhand legacy… _Duncan's_ legacy."

"We'll make the Empire pay for the lives they've destroyed," Edgar said firmly, "Gestahl and Kefka will regret the day they chose us as their enemies."

Sabin turned to look his older brother in the eye. "We'll do this. We'll do it for Mom and Dad. For victory."

"For the Returners," agreed Edgar.

Sabin shook his head. "For Figaro."

"For Figaro," echoed Edgar.

* * *

The castle made preparations for the journey under the Beldeth Mountains, its sand shutters closing and the steel shell surrounded the royal gardens. By mid-morning, the castle had already entered the tunnel systems beneath the surface. Edgar didn't know who or what had made the tunnels, only that his father had discovered them a few years before the outbreak of the Urthmen Wars. Several of Figaro's best scholars had speculated that the Urthmen had created the tunnels, but they had never been spotted before, during, or after the wars.

The six of them sat down for a late breakfast after they had marveled at the castle sinking into the ground.

"Kohlingen is still going to be a two-day trip," Edgar explained to them as he sipped at his tea, "We can only go so fast before the vibrations would tear the castle apart."

"This still doth be a most monstrous way to travel," muttered Cyan.

Next to the elder knight, Gau was digging into his servings of meat in a manner that had the maids horrified.

"Waroo! Gau no want more sand," he said, his mouth still full of meat, "Sand get everywhere in Gau!"

Sabin looked over and saw that Locke was merely pushing his food around the plate, not really eating anything at all.

"Hey Locke, you okay?" he asked.

The young treasure hunter looked at his comrade, then had to lower his eyes. That azure gaze was just like Edgar's, boring into his soul, searching for the truth.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just… just worried… um, about Terra," he lied. He risked a glance at the martial arts master, who simply had a very faraway look in his eyes.

Edgar, on the other hand, suspected the truth. He alone knew of what Locke had left in Kohlingen, what he'd lost there. A young woman by the name of Rachel.

Celes abruptly stood and began walking away.

"Hey, where are you going?" called Locke.

Celes turned and eyed them icily. "Not that it's any of your business, but I will not remain here eating, drinking tea, and blabbering on like a bunch of old maids. I trust Edgar's soldiers have some training areas within this ruin of a castle. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Well hang on a second, I'll join you," said Locke hurriedly.

"I wouldn't want to steal you from your gossip partners," came the acid barb, "Another time, perhaps."

With that, Celes turned on her heel and strode out of the room, all five men's eyes watching her in confusion.

"She _needs_ to work on her people skills," commented Edgar.

Locke looked at the others. Gau had already forgotten about Celes, diving messily into another plate of food. Cyan's suspicious glare had returned, still uncomfortable about working with an Imperial, and Sabin had a look of concern for a friend.

"She… she's probably just tired," suggested Locke, "I'll bet she's worried about us being on this wild chocobo chase for Terra."

Sabin nodded thoughtfully, Cyan's glare didn't diminished one bit, but suddenly Edgar looked a bit guilty.

"Ed?" asked Locke warningly, "What is it? Did you say something to her?"

The King of Figaro swallowed as he noticed his brother and the Doman knight watching him, waiting for an answer. "Well… it's just. I… um, I might have, just _might_, mind you. Might have mentioned something to her… um, about getting involved with you," he said, saying the last part in a rush.

"What!" cried Locke, ready to explode, "You don't trust her, do you, Ed!"

Edgar shrugged guiltily. "Well… not as badly as Cyan does."

"Burn you, Edgar!" yelled Locke, before he turned on his heel and stalked out of the dining room.

"Burn me?" repeated Edgar, talking only to himself, "I'm just trying to keep us safe. Burn you, thief!"

He rose from his chair and hurried out of the room, his face set in an angry scowl.

Cyan and Sabin glanced at each other.

"This situation doest not bode well for the future, Sir Sabin," said the knight.

Sabin nodded in agreement. "There's doubt and suspicion on all sides, Cyan. Until that can fixed, I fear this won't be the last little spat we find our group going through. We just better make sure these conflicts don't interfere when it really matters."

"If they begin so, Sir Sabin," said Cyan, "then our quest shalt be doomed."


	14. Chapter 12: Journey of Friendship

Thanks to everyone who continues to read this story, please take the extra few seconds necessary to put in your comments and reviews. They really do help. Buckbeak, thanks for the nitpick about Rachel, I fixed it for this update. About Sabin's "oversaturation," I hope I kept the focus more spread out here, let me know if I was successful. On the rest of your comments, that's for them being positive.

Everyone else, please give me your thoughts, compliments, or concerns so I can address them as well. For now, thank you, and enjoy.

* * *

When Figaro Castle rose from the desert sands, the six members of the heroic team were the first outside to escape the walls. The two days of travel had been tense, as they all tried to avoid one another to try and prevent more angry words from being spoken or aspersions from being cast.

It took less than an hour for the party to gather their weapons and supplies and start out from the castle. King Edgar had left instructions with Chancellor Paulus and the General of Figaro's army to return the castle back to the Figaro Desert. Then the group set out.

The desert to the southeast of Kohlingen was fairly small, at least compared to the Figaro Desert, and had been left unnamed since the War of the Magi. Most people of the northern continents who even knew that it existed simply called it "the western desert." Within four hours of marching, the group moved out of the sands and brown rock of the desert and into the grasslands that bordered it.

Gau and Sabin had scouted ahead, and by the time the others caught up, the two of them had already prepared a campsite with a warm fire. Sabin had the younger boy laughing at some joke as the rest of them arrived. A large animal, already unrecognizable from being thoroughly skinned was roasting over the fire, giving Locke, Edgar, Celes, and Cyan plenty of time to relax before Sabin began carving.

After another delicious meal, this time without Celes' normal biting comments at Sabin doing the cooking, they drew straws for the evening watch. Edgar and Locke drew for first watch, and settled themselves around the fire while the others fell asleep.

An hour later, Edgar broached a subject that had been bothering him for a while.

"Listen, Locke, about what I said to Celes the other day, I…"

Locke waved it off with a slight grin. "Forget about it. I know that trusting an Imperial general has got to be hard for everyone, especially you and Cyan. I just… I just wish you'd spoken to me about it first."

"That's another thing," agreed Edgar, nodding seriously, "Are you sure you're going to be okay going into Kohlingen? I mean, you haven't been there in years."

Locke swallowed hard. "Is this what you said to Celes?" he asked quietly.

"I just said it was complicated," replied the Figaran king, "You asked me never to tell anyone about Rachel. I just send the funds to Kohlingen, after that, well, only _you_ know what happens to that money."

Locke was silent for a long time, staring into the fire. "You ever regret being friends with me?" he wanted to know.

Edgar's reply was a chuckle. "Every day of my life. Especially when we were younger and getting underfoot. I can't remember how many times Matron switched me after you and your dad would leave. Heh, she always did like Sabin best."

"What if I got you…"

"Don't say it, don't _think_ it!" interrupted Edgar with a snarl, "What happened to Rachel was not your fault and if you keep going like this I swear by the Ancients I'll have Matron switch you! And don't think she'd be afraid of it either. When she threatens me like that, I _still_ believe her."

Locke finally lifted his eyes from the fire and met his friend's steady, sky-blue gaze. They had been the best of friends since they were kids, and age hadn't dulled that relationship. There were few people Locke truly counted as a friend, but he was glad that Edgar was among them.

"Thanks Ed," he said quietly, "Ancients know I needed a bit of a reality check. I can't guarantee how I'll be once we get inside the town, but I'll do my best."

"That's all I can I ask of you, thief," replied Edgar, grinning.

"Treasure hunter, always a bloody treasure hunter."

* * *

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and an hour after dawn the group was already on their way. With Sabin and Gau scouting ahead most of the time, the journey was mostly silent, but quick-moving. By the time the sun was fully above the treetops, they had already reached Kohlingen.

The largest town west of the Beldeth Mountains and north of Jidoor, Kohlingen still managed to maintain that casual, laid-back atmosphere so often found in smaller towns and villages. The streets were wide and clean, with flower and vegetable gardens outside nearly every home. Even many of the stores that they passed had flower beds with bright multitudes of colors. Closer to the center of town, a gurgling creek neatly divided the town, with several small, quaint bridges across it. Children were playing and splashing each other in the knee-deep water.

"So this doth be Kohlingen?" commented Cyan with an approving nod, "Peaceful, I feel."

_A good place to raise a child,_ he thought, his eyes suddenly moist as the pain of his son's death stabbed his heart. _Will the pain never cease? Will I never be free of the heartbreak?_

"How you doing, Locke?" asked Edgar, turning to his old friend. But he looked around in shock. "Locke?"

The young treasure hunter was suddenly nowhere to be seen!

"Locke!" cried Celes is surprise and concern, "Bloody Ancients! Where is he?"

Edgar nodded knowingly. "I think I know where he is. Brother, you, Cyan, and Gau should try to find information on Terra. Celes and I will go back and gather Locke."

"Meet here at the creek in an hour," ordered Sabin. He understood that there was something going on that wasn't being shared with the rest of them, but he wouldn't pry. When Locke was ready to tell them, he would. He watched his older brother and Celes disappear back into the crowds, then turned to his other friends.

"We should split up," he suggested, "Cyan, take Gau with you. I'll check the cafés and the inns. Between our three groups, someone should find out something."

"I agree with thee, Sir Sabin," said the knight, "Come Sir Gau, let us explore."

With his shoulders square and chin high, Cyan led the younger boy into the crowds, while Sabin turned in a different direction.

* * *

In spite of his approval for the loveliness of the town, it all seemed too whimsical for Cyan. He missed the solid stone ramparts of Doma Castle, the sturdy stone and brick homes of the city. When he looked around, Cyan could almost imagine a gust of wind blowing over several homes.

Very pretty, yet impractical, his strategic mind assessed. It was a lucky thing Kohlingen was militarily insignificant. Cyan doubted he would need more than twenty knights to take the town if he had to. But then he remembered with melancholy that there were no more Doman knights. No more of the men that he had trained to be loyal to King Gareth. No one else who would join him in his kingdom's battle cry, "Doma eterna."

"Waroo! Waroo! Gau like pretty flowers!" said the boy excitedly, "Think Miss Terra like flowers when we see her?"

"I am certain that Lady Terra would love flowers, Sir Gau," replied Cyan with a gentle smile, "But first, we must find our friend. That, Sir Gau, doest be far more challenging."

"Oh."

Gau's mood seemed to dwindle a bit as he realized just how difficult their search might be.

With his eyes downcast, Gau missed the girl who was running around with her arms out. Going too fast to stop, the girl crashed headlong into him.

"Waroo!" he cried in alarm.

Cyan stared down at the scene in amusement, as the little girl crawled off of Gau, her apologies forming one long sentence.

"Raena!" cried a voice, one that was soon followed by a woman about Edgar's age. She was clearly the girl's mother, the shared the same facial features. "I thought I told you to stop running around like that!"

Cyan smirked. She scolded like a mother, too.

"But Mommy, I was playing ghost-lady," whined the girl.

"Milady, please! A moment!" he cried, then knelt down next to the girl, "What do you mean, a 'ghost-lady'?"

The little girl, Raena, looked confused, as though _everybody_ knew about it. "A ghost came here a few days ago. She was all pretty, pink skin and glowing eyes. Like crystals that I see on rich people! Her hair was so pretty, it kept moving up and down and side to side, even when there wasn't any wind! Everyone else was frightened," she said this part with a bit of smug pride, "but I wasn't! She was so pretty, I knew she wouldn't hurt me."

Cyan turned to the girl's mother. "Fair maiden, didst thou see this ghost as well?"

"Did I!" asked the woman incredulously, "Half the flaming town saw that creature! We thought the War of Magi had come again. Then as quickly as this thing arrived, it took off."

"What direction? Where was thee heading?" he asked desperately.

"South," replied the woman, "towards Jidoor."

With one last glance between Cyan and Gau, the woman dragged her daughter away from the two of them.

"Where be Jidoor, Cyan?" asked the boy.

Cyan shook his head uncertainly. "I do not know for certain, Sir Gau. I know it doth be one of the wealthiest cities of the world. I am certain that our friends shalt know of where thou city is. Come, we shalt find them."

Gau followed along happily, jumping and skipping as he went. They knew how to follow Miss Terra. Gau couldn't wait to tell Mr. Thou!

* * *

Sabin had gone through two cafes, one bar, and a nearly empty inn, gathering bits and pieces of the story about Terra's arrival in Kohlingen. Few men were willing to speak about her, which Sabin found odd. The people of this town had never been a suspicious folk before, not in the three or four visits he'd made with Master Duncan, at least.

He passed through the halls of one inn, looking for anyone that would help him with further information. Apparently, Terra's appearance had convinced the small Town Council, what little there was, that a new War of the Magi was upon them. Sabin shook his head ruefully. If there was a new Great War, half the planet would be gone by now.

As he passed by one of the rooms, Sabin heard something from other side of the door. Pausing to listen closer, he could hear the moans of someone in pain. Thinking there might be something he could do, Sabin pushed open the door.

"Hello?" he said cautiously.

A sound halfway between a growl and a roar erupted from the far side of the bed, and the man who lay there suddenly sprang into action, his arm snapping like a whip.

Sabin barely heard the cry of "Baram!" But with speed born from his training, Sabin slid back behind the door, and felt three distinct impacts into the door. The razor-sharp point of some instrument poked through the nearly four inches of solid oak wood. He knew instantly who it was. Only one other person alive besides himself could move with that kind of viperish speed.

"You keep that up and your talent for hospitality will be come legendary, Kojiro," he called through the door, "If you wanted me to leave you could have just said so."

"Come in, Ironhand."

Sabin slowly pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Interceptor was at the foot of the bed, on his feet and wary. Shadow sat on the edge of the bed, facing away. His facemask and cowl had been donned quickly, but his chest and back were bare. Sabin took a moment to examine the scars on the ninja's back. One of them, made by a sword blade no doubt, looked to have been about an inch from severing his heart. Shadow was a fortunate man.

Spying a pitcher of water on the table, Sabin poured a glass and brought it over to the bed. Interceptor began growling menacingly.

"It's all right, Interceptor," said Shadow, "Sabin is a friend."

The massive dog instantly became more at ease and laid on the floor restfully, though it kept its eyes on the martial arts master. The ninja took the proffered water from Sabin and turned away to take a long swallow.

"I didn't think you allowed yourself the luxury of friends, Kojiro," commented Sabin.

Interceptor lifted his head with a questioning growl.

"Except you, Interceptor," Sabin quickly said to the dog, which promptly lowered its head, making a contented sound.

_Burn me but that bloody dog's smart._

"I don't, Ironhand," came the ninja's easy reply, "but to Interceptor, there are only current allies, such as you are now, and potential enemies."

"That would be everybody else, wouldn't it?" said the martial arts master with a grin, his ocean blue eyes sparkling with humor.

"Indeed it would be," agreed Shadow as he slipped a black shirt over his head and began tightening his belt. "I presume you finally made your way back to Narshe?"

"We did, Cyan and I both," explained Sabin, "We had to take a small detour around Mobliz where we found a youth named Gau. He came with us to Narshe. We fought against Kefka once again. He was leading an Imperial force to capture the Esper that was found in the mines."

Shadow nodded slowly, his gray eyes totally unreadable. "I had heard rumors of the sort. I didn't think it was possible for a creature of power to be found by those northern peasants."

"They're good people," said Sabin, bristling slightly in defense of Narshe, "Unfortunately, something happened to one of our number. Terra, the woman I told you about. She changed into… something."

"A creature of pale skin and crystal eyes?" suggested Shadow, "With hair that seemed to move even when there's no wind?"

"You saw her!" cried Sabin, "Where? When?"

Shadow continued to calmly don his weapons. Though Sabin had been watching closely, he hadn't seen the ninja store away any of his shuriken. He grinned, knowing that he'd probably missed it. Shadow was too bloody stealthy for his own good.

"She came through Kohlingen less than a week ago," explained Shadow as he fitted his blades across his back and against his right thigh, "Burn me, but for a few minutes I thought these villagers were right, and a new War of the Magi was upon us. Your lady friend nearly scorched the ground where she landed."

"We have to find her, Shadow," insisted Sabin, "She may be the key to winning this war against Gestahl's Empire. We have her on our side, and also a girl, Celes, she was one of the Empire's generals."

Shadow turned his unreadable gray eyes on Sabin. "Do you truly believe that your small group can overthrow an Empire as powerful as Gestahl's? He turned Vector into the world's greatest fortress, he repelled the Urthmen, destroyed Doma, and seems to have Figaro on the run."

Sabin nodded his understanding. Those were some of the same doubts that had been plaguing him since first joining Terra and his brother in the Sabil Mountains.

"You don't think having two people capable of wielding magic will be enough, do you?" he asked.

The ninja laughed, but there was no humor or amusement in his voice when he spoke. "What do you think Terra's true memories are? Do you think she might be a willing ally of Gestahl's if her memories return? And how do you know that Celes is genuinely on your side?"

"I trust her," replied Sabin confidently, "I'll trust them both with my life."

Sabin couldn't explain how he knew that. He couldn't possibly explain why. But his training in the mysteries of the lifestream had given him ways to look at people, new ways to believe he could trust or not trust someone. When he was Terra, he had felt only the best intentions, a desire to what was right. Celes was cold to everyone, as though she had ice in her veins, but he had sensed beneath that frosty exterior was a wellspring of warm emotions that were straining for release.

"So, let's assume, _for the moment_, that both women are genuine," suggested Shadow, "Having both of them on the side of the Returners is pure luck. It will take more than that to defeat Gestahl."

"I prefer to think that luck has little to do with anything," retorted Sabin, "I like to think we make our own choices in this world. We decide our own fate, our own futures."

Shadow laughed again, this time there was genuine, if cold, amusement in his words. "Faith leads to your own doom, Ironhand. If you continue to rely on such faith, we'll never get anywhere, will we?"

"We?" repeated Sabin with a grin, "Does this mean you'll be joining us then?"

Shadow turned to the martial artist with a raised eyebrow. Silently he finished readying his gear.

"I might be persuaded to help you," he said slowly, "but I don't do it for free, you understand."

Sabin grinned. _This_ was the Shadow he'd come to think of as a friend. "Of course, we all have expenses."

"Mine are a bit greater than most. You see Interceptor has to eat as well."

"Well we can't allow such a noble creature to starve, now can we?"

"Not at all," agreed Shadow, "But I wouldn't want more than is needed to keep Interceptor fed."

"That would just be greedy."

"So I think, that, oh 3000 gold crowns should suffice for my services."

"Such a small sum," said Sabin smirking, he could just imagine Edgar's face when he learned of this deal, his brother always had been tight-fisted with his money, "I was afraid you would try to extort money from me."

As Shadow walked up to him he spoke quietly. "Why extort when you'll give me the money anyway."

The ninja continued out the door, followed immediately by Interceptor. Sabin could almost imagine the dog was amused by the exchange. Laughing heartily, the martial artist followed them out the door.

Edgar was going to kill him for sure.

* * *

Celes followed the Figaran king through the town, hoping that Locke was in no danger. Edgar didn't seem worried about him, but the king was concerned. He led the two of them over to the western side of the town, where the homes had become slightly smaller, but still just as lovely with their flower and herb gardens.

Finally, Edgar brought them to a stop in front of a burned-out wreck of a home that looked like it had been abandoned for a decade. What parts of the wooden front that weren't burned were rotting, the front door and shutters on the windows were hanging half off their hinges.

Carefully, he began to climb the front porch steps and slid into the house. Celes drew her sword and followed him in.

The inside also looked like a fire had gone through it, and their footsteps kicked up dust and ash.

"Locke!" called Edgar, "Locke are you here!"

Celes' pale eyes swept back and forth, alert for any kind movement. Finally, she could contain her curiosity no longer.

"Tell me where we are, Edgar," she ordered, but her voice was tight and breathless, not at all how she'd intended to speak to him.

"This was Rachel's house," he replied quietly.

She managed to bite back her next question, which was, who was Rachel? But the low tone of his voice, the sadness that seemed to be hidden away, made her hesitate. Celes felt her throat tighten.

"Who was she?" she asked quietly, "Why would Locke be here?"

Edgar eyed her with a look she hadn't seen on him before. It was a regretful look, like he was about to do something he didn't want to, but knew he had to. Finally, he sighed.

"Remember what I told you about becoming attached to Locke?" he asked.

Celes nodded gruffly. "You said he had a complicated past."

"Rachel… is the complication," said Edgar.

It didn't make any sense to Celes. Edgar had said this _was_ Rachel's house. So she was gone, and judging from the state of the house, was probably dead as well. And as much as she felt her insides tighten whenever she thought of the treasure hunter, if the girl was dead, then how could she continue to affect his life?

"Locke is going to kill me," said Edgar quietly, "If he's not here, then there's only one other place he'd go to. Someplace that he doesn't think I know about. Celes… I think you deserve to know the truth about those complications I mentioned. Ancients burn me. Follow me."

Edgar strode purposefully out of the house and instantly began to head north. Ten minutes later, he led Celes to another house. This one looked to be in fairly good repair, except that the gardens around it looked untended, filled with weeds while the flowers looked well on their way to the graveyard.

"Edgar," said Celes nervously, "where are we? What is this place?"

The king sighed. "This is Locke's house."

Celes gasped, but Edgar was already walking up the stairs to the door. Before he could knock however, the door suddenly opened. An old man in tattered green and brown robes stood on the other side, wisps of gray hair sticking out at every possible angle. Celes wrinkled her nose as she caught some unpleasant odor, like all the wrong herbs being mixed together.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Edgar graciously, "I came here looking for my friend, Locke. Has he come here?"

The old man looked at the two of them strangely for a moment, especially Edgar.

"You have the sound of Figaro, on your tongue, boy," said the old man in a scratchy voice, "Just like them messengers that come every month with Locke's payment."

"The money comes to you!" said Edgar in shock.

"Well of course it does!" the old man shot back, "Locke's little project downstairs doesn't come cheap! Or easy. But I've managed to make it work for the last eight years, and as long as the money keeps flowing… I'll keep working."

"We have to speak to Locke," insisted Celes.

The old man shrugged. "It's his secret. He wants to keep it. Let him. I got work to do."

Without another word, the old man pushed his way past the two younger heroes and into the streets. Edgar and Celes both looked at each other, took a deep breath, and went in.

The house was rather ordinary, with very few comforts or signs that Locke had ever lived here. There was a thin layer of dust on the furniture and tables, as though he hadn't gotten around to cleaning the place in months. Off to the left of the main hallway, a door was half open, leading down into a basement.

As they descended the stairs, Celes' eyes widened in amazement. She'd caught the smell of fresh flowers! Roses, unless she was mistaken.

Locke was standing over the bed in the center of the room. There were bouquets of flowers strewn about, and more than enough oil lamps to give the room a bright glow. Laying on the bed was a girl who couldn't be much older than Celes herself. The girl had pale skin, with hair so black that when the light shone on it the right way it seemed violet. Celes could almost imagine the girl was sleeping peacefully from the slight smile on her features.

"Locke…" whispered Celes.

The treasure hunter spun around with terrific speed, drawing his knife as he did so. Celes stared at him in shock and anger, and as soon as Locke realized who it was, he put away his knife. Unfortunately his look of surprise turned to anger.

"Why'd you bring her here, Edgar?" he demanded, "Burn you, why'd you follow me!"

"You disappeared on us," Edgar shot back, "We were worried about you."

"Oh, is that right?" sneered Locke, "You want to show Celes what a wreck I am? Want to make sure you can get her to yourself?"

"Locke!" roared Celes.

"She deserves to know the truth!" yelled Edgar, pushing Celes' objection to the side, "Burn you, but so do I! I see a nearly empty house and a dead girl who I presume to be Rachel, and find out that this is what my money has been going towards. I want to know what's going on Locke. We both deserve to know. We're your friends, Locke. Don't shoulder whatever burden you have alone."

"I failed her," said Locke, his voice breaking as he turned back to the bed, staring longingly at the girl's face, "Rachel and I were partners in treasure hunting. I'd always drag her around on the wildest chases. We fell in love, we were going to be married."

Celes went very still at that, but said nothing as Locke continued.

"We went into some caves not far from here," he explained, "There was an accident, and she saved my life. She lost her memory, completely. Total amnesia, didn't remember a thing. Didn't even remember me. Her father… well, he hated me from the day he met me. This was the excuse of a lifetime for him to get me out of Rachel's life. Wouldn't even let me tell her we going to be married. I left Kohlingen, that's when I first began to work with the Returners, even before I became really active."

Locke paused in his monologue, obviously trying to summon up the strength to go on. Celes felt so terrible, but she wondered why. She didn't care about this girl, as far as she was concerned Rachel was dead. So why did Locke's tears make her throat constrict and her heart beat strangely?

"While I was gone, I learned that the Empire had send a few patrols into the region, trying to get a foothold in the Beldeth Mountains. Some people here in Kohlingen protested the Empire using their town for a base, not wanting to have anything to do with Gestahl or the Empire. The commander, he… he ordered his men to raid the town and burn a few homes. Rachel was killed in the raid. I found out later that… that her memory came back, just before she died. A friend told me, that the last thing she said was my name, and that she loved me."

Locke was silent for several moments, his shoulders shaking slightly as he cried. Celes had to restrain herself from going over and comforting him. She wanted to, but her training and discipline had been too deeply ingrained. Comforting him would have acknowledged his weakness, and she didn't want to see Locke as weak.

Although Edgar was also affected by Locke's tale, he wasn't finished. He knew that Rachel had died in the attack, but Locke had never told him how she'd regained her memory. That still didn't explain what she was doing laying on the bed, looking as if she might awaken from a nap at any moment.

"So why does Rachel look like she's still alive?" he asked quietly.

Locke steadied himself before speaking again. "Once I learned what happened, I instantly went in search of an old healer. The guy you must have seen on your way in. There'd always been rumors and tales about him going around Kohlingen. A mad herbalist they said, who claimed he could prevent people from dying. He was my only chance to save her. I found him and convinced him to keep Rachel alive for a very large sum."

"That's what my money goes to every month," surmised Edgar, "his payment and cost of whatever it is he's using."

"You mean, you mean that old man, he kept her alive?" gasped Celes, "How?"

Locke shook his head. "I don't know how he does it. But he's said that as long as he keeps using his herbal infusions and whatever magic he may or may not have, Rachel will sleep like this forever. Now that I know magic is real, there might be a way to bring her back. I have to try… I have to find out for certain."

Edgar nodded his understanding. If he'd had a way to save either of his parents, he doubtlessly would have done exactly the same as Locke. With a look of sympathy he walked up to his oldest friend and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, old friend," he said quietly, "there's nothing more to be done here. Let's go find Terra."

Locke nodded, drying his eyes with his sleeve. Slowly, mechanically, he allowed Edgar to lead him to the stairs.

Edgar turned to see Celes still standing in the basement, staring at Rachel's body. "Hey Celes, are you coming or not?"

"I'll be right with you," she replied without turning around.

Celes waited as she heard Edgar and Locke make it up the stairs and go outside. Slowly, she approached Rachel's body. She was a pretty girl, Celes admitted, in a simple, country-girl sort of way.

_Edgar said it was complicated_, the thought, then gave an unlady-like snort, _Complicated? This puts complicated about ten feet below the surface! Edgar made it sound like some cruel joke back in Narshe!_

As she looked at Rachel, she remembered little comments Locke had made when they'd met and been on their journey together to Narshe. "I won't leave you behind," he'd said. Celes realized he thought that he'd left Rachel behind.

_Locke… did you help me only to make up for past mistakes?_ she wondered, _Don't I…_

Celes couldn't make herself finish the thought. The cold emptiness in her heart had begun to melt when she was around Locke, but now she let it return full-strength. If she was nothing but a reason to make up for his past, then so be it. She wouldn't let her heart soften again.

But as she climbed the stairs, Celes wondered why that thought saddened her.

* * *

Cyan and Gau had returned to the bridge by the creek much earlier. Cyan had looked on as the boy had joined the other children in splashing each other. Gau was laughing just as hard as the others as they got each other soaked in the creek's clean waters.

The older knight watched with a sense of amused contentment. Gau was a good young boy, one he was sure would grow up into a good man.

_Owain would have liked him_, thought Cyan, then instantly regretted it as he felt his heart clench.

He turned away from the happy scene and spotted Edgar, Celes, and Locke making their way over. He could see that Locke's eyes were red and bleary, and there was a certain stiffness in the gait of all three of them. Cyan couldn't help but wonder what had gone on in their absence.

"Sir Gau, our friends hath arrived," he called down to the boy.

"Waroo! Gau come!" cried the boy, who suddenly leapt out of the creek and scampered up the embankment, shaking off the excess water just as the other three arrived.

"King Edgar, we hath found that Lady Terra doest be making her way south, towards Jidoor," explained Cyan.

Edgar nodded thoughtfully. "Jidoor, huh? That might be a week's journey on foot. Maybe more."

"We have to find her," insisted Locke, "We have to help her with her memory."

The Figaran turn turned to his friend with a look of exasperation. "I didn't say we wouldn't go! I was just commenting that it will be a bit long of a journey. Now, where's my brother?"

"Right here," said a new voice.

Edgar smiled at his brother, then his look dropped to astonishment at the creature who stood behind him.

"Bloody Ancients!" he cried.

"Shadow!" yelled Locke, who hurled his knife at the black-clad fiend without hesitation.

Sabin's hand moved to catch the weapon, but Shadow was slightly faster.

"Burn you, Kojiro, I had that!" insisted Sabin.

"This will simply have to be a lesson for you to move faster, Ironhand," said Shadow smugly, "Two points to me."

"Two?" repeated Sabin, "No way, I would have had that. One point."

"Take the two points, and Interceptor eats a third less than you'd planned," said Sabin with a smug grin, then quickly looked down at the black dog, who was looking at him, "No offense, Interceptor, but you'll eat well, and Shadow can't afford for you to get fat and lazy. You need to stay in trim fighting form."

Shadow's gray eyes darted between Sabin, Interceptor, and the knife in his hands. Once they flicked over to the others who were watching in confusion. Finally, he thrust the knife back towards Locke, who took the weapon back carefully.

"Two points, and a third less," agreed Shadow.

Sabin seemed disappointed. "Why did I know you'd choose that?"

"Sabin," breathed Edgar, "do you _know_ who this is?"

The martial arts master seemed somewhat confused by the hesitation and fear in everyone. "Of course, this is Shadow, last surviving member of the Kojiro clan and assassin supreme. He's agreed to help us for 2000 gold crowns."

"What!" cried Edgar.

"Sir Shadow," greeted Cyan, "it is good to see that art doing well since our parting."

Celes carefully eyed the assassin that she had heard so much about while a member of the Empire. It was rumored that Gestahl had hired the ninja twice. His gray eyes were cold and hard, the only part of his face that she could see. Looking down at the gigantic dog at his side, the creature stared back at her and growled menacingly.

"Sabin," said Locke, "Cyan and Gau found out that Terra was last seen heading south, towards Jidoor."

The martial artists nodded thoughtfully. "Jidoor. That's about a week's journey on foot if we keep close to the Beldeth Mountains. I know a few paths that should be easy enough for the rest of you. We can probably make it in under a week."

"My gold, Ironhand?" Shadow reminded him.

Sabin grinned. "I leave money to my brother. After all, he's the rich king."

Edgar grumbled at his brother's retreating back. It just wasn't bloody fair!

* * *

The seven of them made good time on their journey south from Kohlingen. This despite the unusually warm, early summer sun that would beat down on them for hours at a time. Locke, Celes, and Cyan had it the worst in their heavier armor and being unused to such heat. Even Edgar, whose castle lay in the middle of the Figaro Desert, was used to the castle's mechanized cooling systems. Gau was used to the heat of the Veldt, but the much more humid air had him panting. Only Sabin and Shadow seemed unaffected by the heat.

Sabin, Shadow, and Gau would often spend hours away from the others as they scouted ahead. With Sabin and Gau's superior wilderness skills, they were able to forge a path that avoided detrimental obstacles and even the majority of the monsters in the area. Sabin knew where the worst of them were as they skirted the western edge of the Beldeth Mountains.

Edgar and Locke spent much of their time reminiscing about their youth, when Locke was an uncommon but welcome visitor to Figaro Castle with his father. Frank Cole had provided King Andris with some service in the days before the Urthmen Wars that made him forever welcome. Their talks and laughter at the antics of their younger days pulled Locke out of the melancholy that had afflicted him in Kohlingen.

Unfortunately, Cyan's distrust of Celes lay bare on the surface. He constantly watched the young former general, ready for any sign of treachery. Celes, for her part, felt the Doman knight's glares and suspicions, but did her best to ignore it. On occasion, she would walk with Locke, asking more about his past, or listening to his and Edgar's tales. Once she even requested to go scouting with Sabin, just to escape those eyes, at least temporarily.

At night, no one asked for Shadow to take watch at all. Aside from Sabin, the rest were uncomfortable around the secretive ninja. Even Cyan, once he had heard several of the stories about Shadow, began to lose some of the trust he had given since meeting the ninja outside Doma. Thus, Sabin and Shadow always to their night watches together, continuing to share tales of their training and sharing some of their lessons with each other.

Thus their journey remained a rather quiet one as they finally approached the rising city of Jidoor five days later.

"Where we go?" asked Gau as they reached the city limits. Before them was a dirty, squalid shanty-town, where the inhabitants scurried from one shadow to another, and beady eyes watched everything around them.

"This be Jidoor, Sir Gau," answered Cyan, "many doth said it be one of the wealthiest cities of our world."

Celes raised an eyebrow in amusement as she looked down her nose at a trio of youths who scampered out of her way. "Perhaps the city has fallen on bad times, recently," she suggested mockingly.

"We're only in the slums," answered Shadow quietly, "the higher one goes up this hill, the richer the people. When the ground begins to rise there will be an abrupt change. You'll know it when you see it."

Sabin nodded in understanding. He'd been to Jidoor with Master Duncan before, he knew the peculiarities of its inhabitants.

They all kept a hand on their weapons as they watched the bustling streets and the much darker alleys around them. On the main street going towards the center of the city things were slightly better, as merchant caravans traversed the road alongside the rogues of the slums.

Before long, they found themselves passing a high wall, the gateway over the street was heavily guarded. The soldiers wore gleaming plate armor, with polished shields and immaculate banners hanging from their spears.

"They've got a thing for being clean, don't they?" commented Locke.

"It separates Jidoor from the slums, thief," replied Shadow a bit snidely. He spoke quickly, cutting off anything Locke might have said. "Jidoor is a city of extremes. There are the rich and then there are the poor. There is no middle ground. Nor do Jidoorans believe in charity. If a man was meant to have money, he would have the means to earn it. On the other hand, Jidoorans do love to spend money in frivolous ways. The more money one spends, the more they must have available to spend. It is a dangerous cycle they are in. One misstep and a family can end up in the slums."

"You have to understand, Locke," added Sabin, "the people of Jidoor have such a preoccupation with prestige and status that locals call the slums 'Jadar,' because they don't want the city's name of Jidoor to be sullied by the squalor we just came through."

"Bloody idiots," muttered the rogue.

Edgar kept silent, but he agreed with Locke. His father had begun programs to help the poor of Figaro and Edgar himself had expanded on them. Now he could proudly say that Figaro had virtually no slums or poor. Everyone lived with a roof over their head and food on the table.

Everyone looked around as the guards let them pass the gate, after a generous bribe, perhaps to prove they had money. The city had been built to accommodate some of the world's wealthiest merchants and finest artisans, so now in the city proper, it resulted in a virtual metropolis of beautiful and exotic architecture, wide avenues, and small parks that were often situated around a beautiful flowing fountain of water.

Shadow had been right. As they ascended the gentle hill, they found the homes became grander and more opulent. Some were surrounded by small parks, virtually country manors with the amount of space they occupied. The number of people on foot diminished and more were being carried in palanquins, some open and some with gauzy curtains drawn closed.

They kept walking until the road split in two directions, with perhaps the most beautiful fountain they'd seen yet cascading in the center of the intersection. One road went higher up the hill to the right, where even grander manors were visible, the other road veered off to the left revealing more modest homes. Modest by Jidooran standards, at least.

"Where do we go from here?" asked Locke.

As they stood about, looking around uncertainly, a woman in an expensive, gem-studded gown came over to them. The dress hung off her shoulders, the fringes were heavily embroidered in gold thread, and the v-necked front was cut so low that a great deal of her breasts could be seen. Jidooran women were not renowned for their modesty. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

As she approached, Cyan felt himself going red and quickly turned away from her.

"Welcome to Jidoor, noble traders," she greeted, "On behalf of Lord Owzer, I would like to invite you to the Opera House for the performance of a lifetime. I'm certain you were looking forward to actually meeting the wondrous Maria, but I must apologize. She has been unwell recently and has had difficulty traveling. But we have received assurances that she _will_ be performing at the Opera House."

The rest of them looked back and forth at each other. Locke and Edgar had heard of the singer Maria. She was said to be one of the most beautiful women in the world with a wondrous voice that could enchant monsters.

Locke began to stumble over his tongue, unable to keep his eyes from wandering, but Edgar quickly stepped in, flashing the woman a winning smile. The woman swallowed hard as she blushed.

"Please forgive my friends. They are eager to see Maria, but I think my eyes have found another exquisite beauty," he said smoothly, causing the woman's blush to deepen, "but we are also on the search for a friend of ours. We had heard she had come south, perhaps you saw her? She would have looked strange, with crystalline eyes, her body hidden by a glow of pinkish light – "

"You know about that thing!" gasped the woman as she nearly dropped her handbag, "Are you from Kohlingen?"

"We hath indeed come from there, fair maiden," answered Cyan, "Have thou seen our friend?"

"All of Jidoor saw it!" said the woman quickly, "It shot across the sky like shooting star, trailing a beam of light behind it. We thought the bloody sky was beginning to fall. It looked like the bloody thing had come from Kohlingen, but when a messenger returned from there he informed us that their whole little town had come to a stop when it appeared. But you say it was a young woman? Well, whatever she, or _it_ was, it's not here anymore. It took off towards Zozo."

Only Celes, who had turned away from the jabbering woman, noticed Sabin's face go tight and his sharp intake of breath. The massive warrior had shown fear at nothing since she'd met him. Why could the mention of Zozo take his breath away?

"Then Zozo is where we'll go," declared Locke firmly.

"Are you bloody lunatics!" cried the woman.

Very quickly a tall, broad-shouldered man came up behind the woman and put a protective arm around her, glaring at the group until he saw Sabin. Then his eyes dropped for a fraction of a moment.

"Honey, all you all right? What got you so excited? Are these people bothering you?" he asked.

"These people say they're going to go off to Zozo to search for that creature we saw the other night," she explained.

"You must all be bloody fools," said the man, "Zozo is a town of thieves and rogues, not a place for decent people."

"We have to go," insisted Sabin, his voice tight.

The man sighed and then shrugged. "Well, you fools may just be in luck. I happen to run a chocobo stable on the southern slopes. They'll outrun just about anything that can threaten you within the Beldeth Mountains. I'll be willing to rent them out to you, but I've trained them to return home if anyone tries to take them into Zozo. Just a little safety measure against those brigands."

"How much?" asked Locke, eager to get going.

"For all seven of you?" wondered the man, "Call it 1500 gold. That should cover all the expenses."

"Burn you, thief," muttered Edgar.

"Treasure hunter, Ed," growled Locke.

"Not you," sighed the Figaran king, "him."

Locke suddenly realized what Edgar had meant, but he wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. As the wealthiest member of their group, they had silently agreed to let Edgar handle their money. He began grumbling as the man led them towards his stables, and he didn't stop even after he had passed over the right amount of gold.

Celes tried to mount one of the chocobos, but the avian creature seemed very skittish, pounding its feet into the ground and scampering a few feet away whenever the blond woman approached.

"Burn you, you stupid animal," she growled, "get over here."

In the stall next to her, Sabin shook his head. He swung around, walking past a red-faced Celes. He gently but firmly grabbed the reins and pulled the chocobo's head down towards him.

"Quiet. Quiet, shh," he whispered, staring deeply into the giant bird's eyes. After only a few moments, it was completely docile. Sabin turned to Celes and gave her a small grin. "She should be all right now."

Sabin held the bird while Celes got into the saddle. Then she looked down at the warrior.

"Are you all right, Sabin?" she asked.

He smiled weakly. If Celes didn't know better, she'd think he looked sick.

"I'm fine," answered Sabin, "Get going or we'll fall behind."

Without another word he turned back into his own stall and mounted up.

"Ancients I beg you," he whispered, "please say that Master Duncan was wrong for once. Hear me, I beg you."

His eyes grew hard, and then he hurried to catch up with the others.


	15. Chapter 13: Shadows of a Legacy

Thanks to Buckbeak and Aurabolt for your wonderful reviews. Buckbeak, thanks for your compliments on Jidoor and Shadow. To Aurabolt, welcome to the story, and I hope you will continue to enjoy Sabin's continued prominence in this fic. There's a lot dealing with the legacy of Duncan here, which we will continue to learn more about as the story develops. To everyone else, submit more reviews, I need them! Anyway, thank you and enjoy.

* * *

Chocobos truly made travel a joy. Zozo was nearly ten days' journey away on foot, but on chocobo they would make it in two. As the group rounded the Beldeth Mountains and came into the valley where Zozo resided, the weather turned from summer heat, to gray and cloudy, to rain that varied between a light drizzle and drenching thunderstorms.

"By thou Ancients," complained Cyan, "this weather doest be most foul."

Celes nodded in agreement. "These rains haven't let up once. Does it ever stop raining here?"

"It's the valley," said Sabin, "warm, wet ocean winds come into the valley, but because of the mountains they can't get out. That leaves Zozo drenched in rain a good five or six days out of every week."

Locke chuckled as they rode on, the tall buildings of Zozo slowly becoming visible through the sheets of water.

"There's that reasonable explanation for you," he commented, "but are you sure it isn't caused by the Storm Dragon slumbering away beneath the town? After all, that's what they say about Narshe and the Ice Dragon."

Most of them let out a brief chuckle at Locke's tomfoolery. Off to one side, Shadow noticed that Sabin hadn't laughed. In fact, the martial artist looked far more tense than the ninja had ever seen him. Unobtrusively, Shadow maneuvered his chocobo over to Sabin's.

"What is wrong, Ironhand?" he asked.

Sabin glanced at him. "Nothing."

"Don't give me that," snarled Shadow, "You've looked ill ever since we left Jidoor. Talk to me, Ironhand. I'm fairly good with secrets."

Only a few paces ahead of the two men, Celes could barely overhear their words, so she concentrated hard on listening in.

Sabin sighed. "Master Duncan always warned his students about Zozo," he explained, "He told us that the purity of the Blitz, the harmony of the lifestream had been corrupted by this town, and the heirs of the Ironhand are broken. This town itself is a danger to me, Kojiro."

Shadow nodded silently, considering. "Yet even that does not make you slow your pace," he commented.

The martial artist turned to look his friend in the eye. Ocean blue met with steel gray, and each held a steady gaze.

"I came on this journey to find Terra," explained Sabin, "and nothing, not fear nor even my doom will stand in my way. I will meet fate, destiny, or chance head on."

The ninja eyed him steadily. Sabin sometimes thought he knew his friend well enough to decipher the look in that steely gaze. He couldn't be certain, but he thought there was pride and admiration in those eyes.

Suddenly, the chocobos of Gau and Locke, who were in the lead, started getting skittish, tossing their heads back and forth, moving from side to side. Locke tried to get his bird to move forward, but no amount of coaxing would do.

"This must be their limit," commented Edgar, peering through the drizzle, "Zozo can only be another mile or two off."

"Then we shalt walk from here," agreed Cyan.

They all quickly dismounted and grabbed their packs and weapons. As soon as the chocobos were released they turned and ran as fast as they could unhindered. The group then turned and marched towards Zozo.

Built up against the mountain cliffs, the town of Zozo was completely encircled by the mountains, with only one way in or out of the place. Therefore the inhabitants needed no wall or gate, and anyone was free to come and go as they pleased. With the mountains as a means of support, the towers of Zozo were taller than anywhere else in the world, many reaching ten or more stories. Only Vector's Iron Fortress was larger than the Zozan towers.

As they entered the city, the rain became a little heavier and steadier. Celes had to keep pushing her soaking hair back away from her eyes, and Cyan kept wiping his face to wring out his heavy moustache.

"Keep your eyes peeled," warned Edgar, "bandits come out of the woodwork in this town."

As Gau began pulling at his eyelids, Sabin sighed. "Gau. Don't pull at your eyes. Edgar only meant to be careful."

"Oh. Gau understand now," said the boy.

Everyone had their weapons in hand as they walked the streets. Edgar stuck with his autocrossbow, and the others had their blades. Sabin and Gau needed no weapons. Everyone kept their eyes moving.

The town was filled with litter and garbage, no one caring enough to clean the place up. This gave the town a very unpleasant mix of odors, and penetrating through them all was the sickly sweet stench of blood. People scurried from one shadow to another, dodging the potholes in the streets that no one had bothered to fix. Even a stray body littered the road here and there.

Locke did his best not to look closely as they passed another body, this one had a mane of golden blond hair stained with blood. He did his best not to let his imagination run wild.

He soon realized that Celes was walking next to him. Locke noticed her rapid, shallow breathing and the way her eyes darted one way and then the other. Impossible as it was to believe, she looked frightened.

"Don't worry," he said comfortingly, "Remember, I swore I'd protect you. I won't let anything happen to you."

Celes turned her ice-blue eyes on him with a hard glare, insulted that he would think she couldn't take care of herself. But behind the iciness Locke could see her gratitude.

Their group kept moving on, checking buildings here and there, searching for any evidence of Terra. The few people they spoke with were tight-lipped, which struck them as unusual. Zozans were infamous for their being constant liars, even with the most innocent things. For them to be silent about something was very odd.

As they made their way deeper into town, they began passing groups of rough looking men, most of whom also had weapons drawn.

Suddenly, one such man walked right up Celes.

"Hey there, come on home with me," he grunted.

"Get your hands off her!" cried Locke, reaching for the man's arm.

But the brigand whipped out his knife and sliced at Locke's face. Luckily the young rogue threw his head back and escaped the blade. A moment later Celes' blade punched through the man's chest and he fell to his knees. Celes yanked her sword free and the man tumbled to the ground.

A cry of rage came from his numerous other companions and they charged the group.

Edgar took two out quickly, peppering them with bolts from his autocrossbow, then he reached for his sword as another brigand attacked. Cyan found himself fighting side-by-side with Celes as the two of them fought off three attackers together, their superior swordfighting skills complimenting each other well. Cyan slashed up to the left, opening one brigand from hip to shoulder, then reversed his attack to behead another.

Shadow moved carelessly, easily, with Interceptor at his side. More than once the dog made the first attack, wrestling the brigand to the ground or merely holding him still while the ninja's blade slid neatly between the unfortunate soul's ribs. Shadow's attacks were unerringly accurate, killing with a single thrust.

Gau had lost himself to one of his rages, his fists became like sledgehammers as he pounded skulls and ribcages. Sabin was undaunted by his attackers. Using his metal knuckle he met the first with a punch that shattered ribs and almost went through the man. The other man was stunned by a pair of kicks, then Sabin spun around him and sent his elbow hurtling into the man's spine at the base of his neck. The man fell to the ground and didn't move.

Locke was doing a fine job holding off his opponent, until the ground shook and he glanced away. In that moment the brigand's knife slashed across the right side of his belly. But before the brigand could make another attack he was thrown to the side, and Locke found himself staring at a hideous, nine-foot tall creature. It looked like a deformed man, with its wild black hair, oversized nose, and black eyes.

The creature swung its arm, hitting Locke full in the chest and sending the young rogue flying into a wall. Then the creature turned its attention to the next closest fighter; Cyan.

Shadow noticed the monster out of the corner of his eye as it advanced on the Doman knight.

"Cyan duck!" he called, then hurled a trio of throwing stars.

When he heard Shadow yell, Cyan trusted him and didn't hesitate. He dropped to one knee and heard the whistling of throwing stars above his head. Cyan turned and saw the creature only a few paces away, three of the ninja's stars imbedded deeply in its chest.

"Doma eterna!" he cried, leaping for the creature. His first strike caught the creature on its right hip, but in his second strike the monster caught the blade in its hand and punched Cyan, forcing the dazed knight back a few steps.

Sabin saw his friend take a vicious punch and leapt forward. Focusing for a moment, the martial arts master threw himself into the air, soaring over the Doman knight. He landed perfectly on his shoulder and rolled to his feet right in front of the creature. Sabin once again sprang into the air, this time grabbing a fistful of the creature's crude shirt and belt. Infused with the power of the Blitz, Sabin's leap carried himself and his enemy nearly thirty feet into the air. At the apex, Sabin spun and hurled the creature into the ground.

There was a loud crash as the creature's landing caused the road beneath him to collapse. Then Sabin came down, landing on his right knee with his fist descending. His punch connected right over the heart and there was a sickening crack as something within the creature was destroyed and the stone road beneath it buckled. It didn't even have a chance to scream.

The surviving brigands took stock of their losses and fled as fast as their feet would carry them. The group sighed in relief and took stock of their injuries. Locke's cut was the worst, but was easily taken care of with a healing tonic. The rest of them only had minor bumps and bruises.

"What be thee horrific creature?" asked Cyan, looking at the giant.

"It's a Gigas ogre," replied Sabin, "Dozens of their tribes inhabit the mountains. They made a deal with the Zozans more than a century ago. The Gigas could come and go as they pleased within the city, and they would not harm the locals. It's worked out quite well for both parties. The ogres raid and plunder each other and travelers, and the Zozans profit by buying the plunder and selling it back to merchant caravans."

"I _hate_ this bloody town!" cursed Edgar, "These brigands won't stop attacking, you know! They'll just keep coming and coming!"

"Keep calm," suggested Shadow.

"You flaming keep your own calm!" roared Edgar.

"Shut up!" yelled Celes.

As much as Edgar wanted to verbally strike back, he didn't. His pride wouldn't let him yell at a lady. Instead he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He really was losing it. He'd grown too used to the comforts of Figaro Castle, he wasn't prepared for such an arduous quest. The traveling, the fighting, the frustration, and this _bloody_ horrible weather!

Finally composing himself, he gave Celes a sheepish grin. "Most humble apologies, my lady. I shouldn't have raised my voice. Do you forgive me?"

Edgar said the last bit with a bit of a leer and a smile. Celes leaned in closer to him, until her lips were tantalizingly close.

"Not in this decade," she whispered, then pulled away.

Edgar couldn't help but laugh. It seemed to be infectious, and soon the rest of them were chuckling as well. Their laughter died away as they thought of Terra. If she was here, they could only wonder what these monsters, both human and not, were doing to her.

Gau suddenly growled. "Waroo! Gau want fly!"

The others turned to him, then followed his gaze up. As they watched, they saw a figure make a prodigious leap from one building to the other.

"Burn me. That's some bloody jump," muttered Locke.

"Our path doest be a similar route, my friends," said Cyan, "If indeed thine friend Lady Terra be here, we shalt find her at the summit."

Locke and Edgar led the way into the closer building, with Gau hot on their heels, eager to soar through the air. They stopped short upon entering. Two or three dozen men were scattered through the sitting room, drinking and smoking. Many more rough-looking men stood in line, paying a woman in cheap make-up. After paying, one by one they climbed the stairs up to the second floor. When Locke tried to move ahead, several of the men in line put their hands near weapons. Not wanting to provoke a fight, he and the others stood in the line.

When they got to the woman, she looked between Locke, Edgar, and Sabin, then grinned cruelly. "Oh, they're gonna have fun with you," she murmured.

Not knowing or caring what she was talking about, Edgar dropped a handful of coins on the counter, and the seven of them hurried up the stairs.

Upstairs, there were several small rooms that went farther back into the building, while closer to the balcony was an area where several women were lounging. Several of them were using small shards of a mirror to apply more make-up or arrange their hair. Men who had come up before them were already following women towards the rooms.

Cyan felt sick. "What doth this foul place be?"

Sabin glanced at his friend and gave a brief smirk. "This, my friend, is what is politely termed a house of ill-repute."

Cyan shook his head in disgust. Doma taught its people to respect oneself. That you were precious to the world. How could _this_ engender respect?

Slowly they made their way through the women. Sabin and Shadow gave them polite nods, while Edgar threw a few winning smiles at them. Before they could make it past, however, an older woman suddenly grabbed Celes by her upper arm and spun her around.

The woman's face was made up as poorly as the rest of the other women, looking cheap. Like the other girls, she wore a dark red, almost maroon dress, more like a strip of cloth with two long slits up the sides, covering only the bare essentials, and not even that from certain angles. Her dark hair was going slightly gray at the temples, and she looked angry.

"Where do you think you're going, missy!" she demanded, "No one stops working without my okay. Now get your behind moving and make me my money!"

"Hey, look! She doesn't work for you!" said Locke, interposing himself. The madam let go of Celes only long enough to send her elbow into the base of Locke's throat, then shoved him to the ground. Her hands were reaching for Celes before the former general could get a chance to move.

But suddenly a much larger pair of hands grabbed the madam's wrists as Sabin put himself between the two women. The madam snarled but quickly broke free of his grasp, then moved to strike. Sabin moved quickly to parry, and then he and the madam were engaged in a rapid series of strikes, parries, grapples, and counters that were merely a blur to the others.

During this struggle Sabin had to blink hard. This was a classic Ironhand routine! Master Duncan had forced them to do this for hours on end to improve their speed and eye-hand coordination, as well as their close-range techniques.

Sensing his distraction, the madam, her own eyes wide, leveraged Sabin into a hip throw. But Sabin threw his own legs back to land solidly on his feet, and now with the madam unbalanced he lifted her up and threw her across the room.

However, the woman twisted gracefully in the air to land on her own feet amongst the other ladies. They all stared wide-eyed at Sabin.

"You are an heir of Ironhand," said the madam in wonderment.

"Smile ladies!" called Edgar, tool in hand. As their eyes instinctively went to the Figaran king, he hit the button, causing the tool to emit a flash of light that at this range was as brilliant as the sun.

The women screamed as the flash seemed to burn their eyes.

"Come on, Sabin!" he yelled as everyone ran out the door onto the landing.

The landing was more like a catwalk, only wide enough for two small people at a time. It shook slightly with every heavy footstep.

Shadow turned to look towards the other building, and he saw that the railing had fallen apart on the edge. It was long jump, but at least there were no obstacles.

"This way!" called the ninja.

Suddenly the window in front of him exploded as three of the woman landed on the catwalk, razor-sharp mirror shards in their hands. Shadow whipped out his own blade as Interceptor growled. A moment later, more women poured out of the doorway, the madam pushing her way to the front.

Everyone got a hold of their weapons, preparing for a fight.

"You made one mistake, young man," said the madam, looking at Edgar, "you disabled us without killing us. The Slam Dancers of Zozo don't like it when people run from a fight. However, I am willing to overlook your error for now. We are only interested in the Ironhand. If you stay, Ironhand, the others may go. For now."

Sabin nodded gruffly, then turned and jerked his head towards the other building. Shadow nodded once and walked past the women. This was a bit further of a jump that between the rail cars of the Phantom Train. He stood to one side as Interceptor ran past him, leapt and cleared the distance, landing on the far catwalk.

_If Interceptor can do it…_

The ninja stepped back a few paces for momentum, then he hurled himself through the air. He was slightly surprised when his feet landed hard on the metal catwalk. Shadow turned his landing into a forward roll to cushion the impact.

Locke came up next, with a rope and grappling hook. He got a firm hold on the railing the level above Shadow, then swung across the gap between the buildings. He then pushed the rope back for Gau.

Edgar, Celes, and Cyan however, refused to leave.

"Brother, you don't know what they want!" snarled Edgar, "We can fight them!"

"Not on this catwalk, Ed," replied Sabin, "Go on. The others will need you. Get to Terra, she's the important one. And don't worry about me. I'll see you soon."

The madam cackled at that. "Not likely, Ironhand."

"You've stood by us, Sabin," said Celes, "now we'll stand by you."

"This is not your fight, Celes, although I appreciate it. This is a fight for students of the Ironhand techniques. The rest of you have to get going. I'll be fine," insisted the martial arts master.

Finally, Edgar acquiesced with a slump of his shoulders, turning for Locke's rope. Celes and Cyan silently followed after him. Sabin watched them disappear behind the mountain fog before he turned back to the madam.

"I swear, I will destroy all of you for practicing the perverted dark techniques of the Ironhand style," he said firmly, "You've corrupted the teachings of Master Duncan."

"Our techniques are of pure lineage, Ironhand," she insisted, "just as your own are. So I'll make you an offer. Join our master here in Zozo. Become a legend in your own right and we will be yours forever."

Sabin smirked. "Unfortunately, my interests lie elsewhere. Specifically, as far away from your beds as possible."

The madam's face fell to an angry sneer. Sabin readied himself.

"Then, Ironhand, you will die! Kill him!"

The women leapt forward, leading with their mirror shards. They were fast, but the narrow space of the catwalk limited their mobility. Sabin met the first with a backfist that knocked her off the catwalk, screaming all three stories of her fall.

As Sabin only had to concern himself with two or three of the women at a time, his speed was nearly the equal for their own. He grabbed one woman by the hair and slammed her face into the railing, while another took a kick that spun her into the wall. A third found her own mirror shard plunge into her chest.

The last woman between himself and the other building approached cautiously, but Sabin spun around, gaining momentum for a crushing roundhouse kick that landed across her chest. Sabin could feel her ribs break, but kept the kick up until she crashed through the wall! He turned back to the rest of the Slam Dancers, a dangerous look in his eye. Several women took a hesitant step backwards, away from the man who had kicked one of them through a wall.

Sabin advanced on them, and they kept backing off. Suddenly the madam stepped forward.

"Let fly!" she ordered.

The women immediately hurled their mirror shards through the air like daggers. Sabin turned to the door leading back into the building and ripped it from its hinges, holding it in front of himself like a shield. He could feel the impact of the shards. He peeked around and suddenly a weight fell on the other side.

It took him a moment to realize that all the women were pushing together against him.

"Keep pushing girls!" ordered the madam, the first one against the door-shield, "Push him right off the edge!"

Sabin pushed against them with all his might. He was vastly stronger than any one of them. He was stronger than any two, three, or even five of them. But against nearly twenty women all pushing at the same time… they eked him out in strength. Slowly, Sabin was forced backwards one step at a time.

"Time for you to die, Ironhand!" yelled the madam triumphantly.

"Not yet," whispered Sabin.

He focused on the lifestream, drawing the energy of life into himself as he did with the Suplex. The warmth and strength of all life suffused every muscle in his body, granting him strength greater than a Gigas, greater than anything in the world.

Sabin pushed back against the Slam Dancers, and this time, they could not even come close to matching his strength. He steadily marched forward, pushing the Slam Dancers towards the edge.

"No! Harder! Push harder!" screamed the madam desperately.

Sabin felt some resistance and knew that the women in the back must be pressing against the railing. He gave a forceful shove and then he could hear the women screaming. Sabin's mouth became a thin line. He didn't take any satisfaction in this victory, but these women _had_ to die. They were too much of a threat with their corrupted skills. Sabin continued to march forward, pushing more and more of the women to fall to their death.

He could see he was near the end. The power of the Blitz faded from his muscles, but he didn't need it anymore. Only the madam was left. He threw the door to the side and wrapped a hand around her throat.

"You can't win, Ironhand!" she screamed wildly, "We will destroy you! The heirs of Ironhand are broken in Zozo!"

Sabin hesitated. He considered whether killing her was an irrevocable act of darkness, a crime like those Master Duncan had taught them to fight against. But Sabin knew if he let the madam live she would recruit more girls, turn them into Slam Dancers, and put people in danger again.

"Maybe you're right," he said quietly, "Maybe I won't win. But neither will you."

He pushed her away and then spun around into a ferocious back kick, sending the woman flying away from the building.

"Ironhaaaaaaaaaaaand!" she screamed as she fell. With a dull thud, Sabin knew her landing had been fatal. As Master Duncan had joked when training them on mountain cliffs; it isn't the fall that'll kill you, it's the landing.

Sabin turned his head back the way the others had gone. An animalistic growl came from his throat, and then he took off, easily jumping the distance to the other building.

He ran on without sparing a look back.

* * *

The six freedom fighters must have ascended another six stories since their leap to this building. They had gone in and out of the building countless times, exploring for anything that might help in their quest. Although a few of the rooms had contained small sacks of gold, or a healing potion hidden in a footchest, the only item of real interest had been a heavy, metal-plated glove just like Sabin's metal knuckles, only this one was extremely hot to the touch.

They were fortunate that this building seemed abandoned, and they ran into no trouble with the bandits that plagued this town. They climbed one more set of stairs and found themselves on a wide balcony, almost twenty feet from the railing to the wall into the building.

However, a rather large man stood in their way. He was nearly Sabin's height, but a bit wider across the shoulders and more barrel-chested. His skin was a shadowed, unnatural hue, and the man's straw-colored hair was tied off near the top of his head. He was barefoot and bare-chested, and the orange pants and sash he wore were dirty and tattered.

As they approached, the man gave them a wide smile and beckoned them forward. Celes and Shadow hung back a bit. There was something behind that smile…

"Greetings travelers," he said, "it's a rare thing to find strangers in Zozo. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dadaluma, welcome to my hometown."

"You're _from_ Zozo?" asked Locke in amazement.

Dadaluma grinned again. "Haven't been here for a while, but if there's one city in the world that never changes, it's Zozo. You must tell me what I can do for you."

"Well sir, the thing is we're looking for a friend," explained the rogue, "she may be here or at least there should be a lead, but we need to get past you."

The darker man's grin turned more into a smirk, and Celes' hand shot to her sword.

"Well I do so hate causing trouble," said Dadaluma, "perhaps I really should let you pass on with all haste."

Without warning he leapt through the air, spun and delivered a powerful kick to Locke's chest. He fell backwards, the wind completely knocked out of him.

The man then spun around several times, throwing his leg in kicks at Gau one after the other. After the fourth or fifth kick the boy was knocked off his feet, unconscious.

Cyan and Edgar leapt forward with their swords, slicing and cutting as fast as they could. Although they got in a few weak blows, Dadaluma was able to evade almost everything they threw at him. He continued backing off as the two men drove him towards the railing.

Suddenly Dadaluma moved forward and shoved the two men away. Cyan recovered quickly and charged at the larger man, stabbing forward. But Dadaluma spun to avoid the thrust, then his leg came up and spun around, his heel catching Cyan on the back of his neck. The Doman's own momentum coupled with the force of the kick sent him crashing through the railing.

Cyan cried out, twisting desperately. Somehow his hands grabbed a tenuous hold of the landing. Looking down, Cyan could see his feet dangling over more than ten stories of empty air.

"Help?" he whispered.

Above him, the fight was not going well. Dadaluma had sent Edgar crashing headfirst into a support beam, knocking the young king out cold.

Shadow and Celes had charged Dadaluma and were striking furiously with their blades. Both had opened several serious wounds on the warrior. But even as they drove him back, Dadaluma unleashed a powerful crescent kick that spun Shadow to the ground.

Celes took the opportunity to shove her sword through Dadaluma's left arm, causing him to scream in pain. But before she could capitalize on her strike, the dark warrior's right hand shot out to encase her slender throat. He then gave her a vicious knee strike followed by a head butt, stunning her. Celes went almost totally limp in his grasp as he carried her by the throat over to the landing, holding her over the edge.

"No! Celes!" cried Locke, struggling to crawl closer, despite the fires that still raged in his chest.

"You are too feeble, my sweet," sneered Dadaluma, "Therefore it is only fitting that your companions no longer enjoy your charms."

Celes came to her senses just as Dadaluma's hand released her. Celes heard her own sharp intake of breath, then everything went quiet and seemed to pass in slow motion.

She could see her own hair hang suspended in the air just as she was released, and the malicious grin of triumph on Dadaluma's face. She could see several of the others struggling to their feet. Locke was propped up on one arm only a few feet to her left, but he might as well have been a few miles away. His face was contorted into a mixture of hatred, fear, and desperation. He was screaming something.

Suddenly there was something moving at the corner of her eye. Her eyes moved just in time to see Sabin hurtling through the air. His left foot smashed into Dadaluma's ribs so hard that Celes was certain she could see them break. But Sabin wasn't done as he spun to the right, gaining some momentum as he kicked backwards with his other leg, driving his heel into Dadaluma's face.

It was noble, but Celes knew it was too late. She closed her eyes, ready for the fall…

…and suddenly a powerful grip encased her forearm!

Celes' eyes snapped open to see Sabin extended over the ledge, his right hand firmly holding her arm.

Her feet dangled wildly in mid-air, then Sabin gave a mighty pull and brought her halfway up onto the balcony. Locke was there a heartbeat later to help her while Sabin turned his attention to Cyan, who was still hanging onto the balcony for his own life.

Cyan looked carefully at his young friend. Never in their travels together had he seen Sabin twist himself like that. Nor had he cushioned his fall, landing flat on his chest to reach for Celes. Cyan began to wonder at his doubts concerning the former Imperial general. Sabin seemed to be a good judge of character, or maybe it was just that trust came easier to him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cyan could see Dadaluma drinking down at least three healing potions. Sabin was on one knee, looking over his shoulder at the dark warrior, then slowly rose to his feet and turned to face him.

Sabin's sea blue eyes had hardened closer to a stormy gray as he glared at Dadaluma, while the darker man gave a superior smirk.

"My old friend," he said, "welcome to my home. It is good to see you again, my fellow Ironhand."

"Dadaluma," growled Sabin, "What are you doing? You corrupt everything Master Duncan taught us. Why!"

The dark warrior's eyes rose bemusedly. "Power. Purely and simply. The old man was too frightened of the power the rest of us could possess. He was afraid of being left in the dust like the rest of his legend. Vargas and I grew tired of the fool's feeble pace. I would have the power of the Blitz no matter what the old fool planned. So Vargas and I went searching for our own answers. And we found them in the mountain caverns."

From a knife sheath in the back of his belt, Dadaluma drew a razor-sharp crystal. It was jet black and seemed to conceal the warrior's hand in shadow, yet at the same time the crystal glowed with an unearthly dark light. A chill seemed to settle on them all.

Sabin's eyes went wide with shock and horror.

"A shadowstone?" he gasped, "Dadaluma, how could you _do_ this! You know what Master Duncan told us about them! They are pure evil!"

Dadaluma shrugged. "A small price to pay for the power I sought. Its power drove Vargas to madness. He thought he was powerful enough to defeat a Blitz master of your caliber. I know I am not that strong. But I can eliminate your threat. You know of course, of the deadliness of a shadowstone, don't you Sabin? Their threat rests in that they release the evil that lies dormant within a person. A tiny scratch allows the evil to leak out slowly, to gradually take over who they are, but to impale it fully in a man…"

"Will instantly bring out his evil in full force," finished Sabin.

"And when I bring out your evil, we shall make a force that no man will be able to stop," concluded Dadaluma, his eyes glinting with evil light.

Sabin eyed his old comrade warily, never letting the shadowstone out of his sight for a heartbeat. Dadaluma expertly twirled the black crystal in his hand like a dagger.

_I have to avoid that shadowstone at all costs,_ Sabin knew, _but at the same time I have to get it away from him. How do I handle this? Please, help me Master…_

Dadaluma suddenly lunged forward, swinging the shadowstone in wide arcs. Sabin kept himself on the defensive, using his agility to dodge out of the way. He didn't want to risk getting any part him too close to the shadowstone until he was ready. He knew why Dadaluma was attacking with suck wide strikes. He was trusting that a scratch would be enough to give Sabin a taste of his evil and desire more.

As Sabin dodged to the left to avoid a sudden thrust, he swore that he would not succumb to his evil. Dadaluma began to grow frustrated at Sabin's agile dodges, as the two men made their way back and forth around the balcony. All the while Sabin managed to keep himself just a few inches out of range of the dark crystal.

Suddenly, the dark warrior began a strike up and to the left, so Sabin dodged that way, keeping up the distance between himself and the shadowstone. But Dadaluma suddenly released his grip, sending the shadowstone hurtling into his left hand. He then stepped forward, stabbing for Sabin's belly.

Sabin saw the attack too late. The black crystal impaled itself just above his left hip, half of the stone vanishing into his flesh.

"Sabin!" screamed Edgar.

The martial arts master's fists were clenched at his sides, and his face rose to the sky. Sabin's cry was more like the roar of an enraged lion. The shadowstone seemed to melt as its oozing darkness spread to cover Sabin's entire body, turning his skin to a darker, unearthly shade.

Sabin's cry faded away as Dadaluma smirked at the others.

"Sir Sabin?" asked Cyan.

The martial artist's eyes flew open, sparkling with dark light.

"How does it feel, Sabin?" asked Dadaluma.

Sabin lifted his hand and stared deeply at it as he clenched it into a fist, then relaxed it again, as though he was seeing his hand for the very first time.

"It feels good," he replied, "No more questions about how worthy I am to be Duncan's heir, no questions of good, evil, or morality. There is only my power, and other's pain."

Dadaluma wore a cruel smile ten miles wide as he came up beside Sabin, looking around at the others, as he withdrew another shadowstone from a belt pouch.

"We will eliminate these fools, and begin our reign together, my friend," he sneered, "We will find our other training partners, and give them the gift of the shadowstones."

Sabin nodded with a smirk. "They will be eliminated," he agreed, "but _you_ will not be around to see it!"

His hand shot out in a knife-hand strike straight into Dadaluma's throat, while his other hand came up and across his body, grabbing Dadaluma's arm and twisting it backwards until there was an audible _crack!_ and the arm became grotesquely bent the wrong way.

The shadowstone fell to the ground.

Sabin followed that up with a roundhouse kick to the chest and then a backfist, which sent Dadaluma stumbling towards the ledge. Sabin then seemed to draw upon something within himself, then threw his hand forward. A pitch-black cloud hurtled through the air and into Dadaluma, bringing the warrior to his knees.

_The Doom Fist_, Edgar realized, remembering the attack Vargas had used upon Sabin, _How did Sabin learn that?_

Sabin then lifted his arms to his sides and gale force winds came out of nowhere to hammer at Dadaluma and send him tumbling over the edge. Only a quick twist allowed the fingers of one hand to grab a hold of the landing. The others backed out of Sabin's way as he stalked over to his helpless opponent.

"Why Sabin!" gasped Dadaluma, "How? The shadowstone… you'd be evil. Why did you… keep fighting!"

"Just because I'm evil doesn't make me your ally," replied Sabin with a cruel chuckle, "Evil doesn't necessarily work together. Goodbye, my old friend."

Sabin's foot came down hard on Dadaluma's fingers, forcing them loose, and making Dadaluma drop like a stone.

"Sabiiiiiiiiiiiii – !"

Dadaluma's final cry was cut off by a sickening crunching sound as he landed hard on the ground, ten stories below.

As Sabin stared down at Dadaluma's lifeless body with a satisfied smirk, Edgar began to approach his younger brother.

"Sabin? Sabin, are you all right?" he asked nervously.

Suddenly, Sabin's hand shot out like a viper, encasing Edgar's throat.

"You should know better by now than to approach someone wholly evil, big brother," sneered Sabin, "It's a shame your mistake will cost you your life."

"Sabin," said Shadow calmly, "it is not too late. You have friends here who will help you. You are a _good_ person, Ironhand."

Surprisingly, even Celes stepped forward. "Sabin, don't let the darkness overtake the good in your heart. We are your friends. We need you with us."

Without removing his hand from Edgar's throat, Sabin's now-cruel eyes swept up and down Celes' figure. She shuddered. Other men had looked at her like that, but Sabin had been the last she'd ever expect to do so.

"It is such a shame, Celes," he told her, "A form as exquisite as yours is wasted on pathetic thieves. Especially one who cannot appreciate your bounties. But I could. Perhaps a light scratch with the shadowstone? Yes. Just enough to allow your own evil to slowly manifest itself. Gradually you'll find the evil less and less resistible, and you'll learn that the evil is freeing. You know this already from your time in the Empire. When have you felt more free than when allowing your own darkness to reign? Yes, you and I can have a little cat-and-mouse game, one that will be a pleasure to win. And you, my friend Kojiro, it will be even easier with you. A slight scratch will be all that's needed in your case, as you are already so much closer to your own evil."

Celes shuddered as Sabin let out a cruel laugh. Sabin was talking about dominating all of them, and bringing her and Shadow to his side. He was talking about dominating _her_, not just mentally, but sexually as well. It made her angry that the good man she'd seen in him seemed completely submerged by the monster before them.

"Do you know what's behind those doors!" she screamed, "Terra is back there! The friend you've crossed two continents to find! What about her! She needs every friend she can get!"

For a brief moment, the hardness in Sabin's eyes and face softened with uncertainty.

Gau took the opportunity to amble over to Sabin, and then shyly tugged at the martial artist's pant leg. "Please come back, Mr. Thou," he pleaded.

"Sir Sabin! Control thyself!" said Cyan fiercely, "Thou art the heir of Master Duncan. Thou art an Ironhand! Thou art not so weak as to succumb to thine own evil! Thou! Art! Sabin! Ironhand!"

Sabin was suddenly trembling all over his body, his face contorted in pain, confusion, and determination. With a sudden thrust of his arm he released Edgar's throat from his grasp. The dark hue of his skin seemed to flow in odd patterns as Sabin fell to his knees.

His hands clenched into fists as Sabin's face rose and he let out a roar of power. Desperately, Sabin thrust himself into the lifestream, drawing power from the health of nature, the beauty and goodness of all life.

_I will not succumb! I will not dishonor Master Duncan! I will not corrupt the power of the Blitz! I am Sabin Figaro! I AM THE HEIR OF IRONHAND!_

Suddenly all of the darkness in Sabin's skin seemed to pull down to the wound inflicted by Dadaluma. With one last cry of pain, Sabin slumped forward. Edgar was the first to reach him.

"Sabin? Talk to me, little brother," he ordered, "You back with us? Can you hear me?"

"I hear you, I hear you. A deaf man could hear you, Ed," sighed the warrior.

Edgar couldn't help but give a little chuckle. "Don't you _ever_ do something like that again, you hear me!"

With Edgar and Shadow helping hold him on either side, Sabin managed to struggle to his feet, and was able to hold himself up after a few moments of dizziness.

Gau hugged Sabin's leg and then looked up at him. "Does it hurt, Mr. Thou?" he asked.

The others looked down at the tear in Sabin's shirt where the shadowstone had pierced him. There was now a thin black scar about the length of a thumb, which seemed to pulse and writhe with a life of its own. Astonished, Celes stretched out a hand to touch it.

The scar was ice-cold against her fingers, then a feeling of evil shot into her so quickly that Celes snapped her hand away as though it had been burned.

Sabin nodded sadly. "This will scar my body and my mind forever. The shadowstone has given me the knowledge of the dark techniques, but I swear in Duncan's name never to use them, or worse, to teach them. This will be my eternal burden."

"Is this what you meant earlier, Ironhand?" asked Shadow, "Is this the corruption of the Blitz that you feared?"

Sabin nodded slowly.

"Is this over?" asked Celes, her own blue eyes looking deep into Sabin's own.

Without a word, Sabin strode over to the other shadowstone that Dadaluma had dropped. Moving carefully, Sabin moved it over to the ledge, then had the others stand behind him. With care born of a sense of serenity, Sabin fired an aurabolt at the shadowstone. The impact of pure good against pure evil caused the dark crystal to shatter and disintegrate in the light of the power of nature.

"That's the end of it for now," he said solidly, "but the danger of the shadowstones is eternal. They can be found anywhere. I am certain that before we leave this world, we will find ourselves threatened by the evil they unleash again."

Shadow's cold gray eyes swept past the others. "Do you intend to waste the rest of the day or shall we enter?" he asked coolly.


	16. Chapter 14: Plea for Salvation

Well everyone, another update. This one is a little on the short side, but the next will be a lot longer. MogGuy, thanks for your compliment, I did try and show that even though Sabin's years of training with the greatest hero of the world that he still has vulnerabilities. Buckbeak, your compliments on my portrayal of Zozo and my expansion of the scenes meant a lot, thank you. I also hope Interceptor continues to amuse and delight. As for the Shakespearean lingo, I gotta apologize that it'll never be right. And I don't even care to make it so, I care too little about being correct on Shakespeare's behalf. In any case, to the rest you, I hope to see many more people submitting reviews. In the meantime, thank you for reading my work and enjoy.

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When Shadow's rather undiplomatic remark shook everyone out of their reverie, they turned back to the task at hand. On the top floor of one of the tallest of the Zozan towers, they knew they were agonizingly close to finding Terra. They assembled near the door into the building itself. The door was locked, but they knew their resident rogue would enable them to get through.

It took only a few moments, and Locke quickly had the door open. Gau and Cyan went in first, the latter with his sword held at the ready. Edgar followed them in, with his autocrossbow up against his shoulder, prepared to fire at anything that moved.

The room was merely a long hallway towards the back of the building. As soon as Celes stepped across the threshold, a wave of power swept over her, stealing her breath away.

"Celes?" asked Locke, "Are you all right? You look a little pale."

She shook her head. There was something here, something not of this world.

"I can feel some kind of power here, Locke," she explained, "It's almost like, like the way I felt in Narshe. A presence in my mind that smothers me like a blanket. It's extraordinarily powerful."

Cautiously their group made their way down the hall, the oil lamps spaced far enough apart that they could see where they were going, and not much else. After a hundred paces or so, the hallway opened up into a decently sized chamber. In it was only a bed and a simple wooden chair.

Slowly they approached the bed. Cyan and Edgar stood on the left, weapons ready to strike. Sabin stood on the other, fist raised as he pulled down the covers… and they all took a step back in shock!

Terra lay in the bed, her skin still hidden by the pinkish haze, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Terra," whispered Locke.

Edgar leaned in closer to his friend, then reached out to shake her shoulder. "Terra?"

Her milky-white eyes suddenly shot open, and with an inhuman cry she flew into the air above the bed. Then she began to fly about the room in erratic patters, as though she was unable to control herself.

There was a sudden flash of lightning and roar of thunder, and with another cry Terra fell from the air, landing in a heap near one wall.

"Terra!" cried Sabin as he rushed to her side.

Suddenly a disembodied voice seemed to speak from every corner of the room. "She's scared, you know. Scared of what she is and what she could be."

"Where doest thou be, coward!" demanded Cyan, "Show thyself!"

A sudden crack of lightning pierced through the ceiling, hitting the floor near the chair. When the group of heroes managed to blink away the light in their eyes, they were astonished to see a man standing there. He looked almost ancient, with a long, flowing white beard that fell down nearly to his stomach, and had hair to match. The edges of his frayed blue robes seemed to shift and swirl in invisible breezes. In his hands, the man held a long gnarled staff, at the end of which a clear orb seemed to hold swirling storm clouds that were continuously firing small bolts of lightning.

"Who are you?" demanded Celes, her sword angled toward the old man.

"What have you done to Terra?" added Edgar as he aimed his autocrossbow, "Tell us or Ancients help me…"

"Do you mean to tell me that this child is your friend?" interrupted the old man, sounding astonished, "Light of the Ancients. Never did I think it could happen…"

"What could happen? Is Terra all right?" asked Locke, looking at Sabin who knelt beside her.

"You call the child Terra?" said the old man in wonderment, settling himself slowly into the chair, "Terra. How odd. Such a… _human_ name."

The man shook his head, as though suddenly remembering where he was. "She is undamaged, at least in body. I fear that she cannot understand you, however, as her mind has gone to a different plane of understanding, one of conflict against herself. As for myself, I am Ramuh. The Esper, Ramuh."

The silence that overtook them all was so complete that even the sound of the rain on the roof seemed muted.

"Espers," whispered Cyan.

"But… I thought that Espers had left our world," protested Locke, "The stories say you exist in another world, dimension, reality, plane of existence, whatever."

"That is true, boy," replied Ramuh tiredly, "but that does not mean we cannot live here, as well. Sometimes we return to this world that we helped to shape, to admire it in the way a sculptor admires his masterpiece. We can take many forms besides our own. When we come to this world, we disguise ourselves by taking the shape of humans. But you can be rest assured that you have nothing to fear from us."

"Then why hide yourselves from us?" asked Edgar, "With the knowledge of ancient ways and the power of magic, the Espers could do so much good in the world. Why keep yourselves isolated from humanity?"

Ramuh's face fell, and he suddenly seemed very old and very tired, especially for an immortal being. For the first time, the heroes saw him less as a demigod, and more of an old man.

"Yes, Espers could do very great things here," he admitted, "or very terrible things. The truth is that in this world, we are a force that cannot be controlled. No, humans and Espers can never survive together."

But Locke wasn't about to let this Esper off so easily. What about all the stories?

"But my grandmother used to tell me stories of humans and Espers living peacefully all the time," he protested, "That we lived side-by-side for an untold number of years. Could these stories that we've passed down for a millennium be… could they just be simple fairy tales?"

"No," replied Ramuh firmly, "Once, a long time ago, it was not a fairy tale. Although the ancient Magi created the Espers from the raw power of magic itself, we were not considered slaves, but rather friends and partners in the pursuit of knowledge and magical prowess. The power of Espers came from instinctively channeling magic, while the Magi depended upon study and intense concentration. We coexisted in contentment for several hundred of your years. And then… and then came the War of the Magi."

"The Great War," added Shadow.

Ramuh nodded sadly. "It took place… a long time ago, even as Espers reckon time. The Magi grew petty and jealous of each other. They began to measure their prowess against others, and even began to test themselves against Espers. Finally, the bonds the Magi had formed with each other broke apart completely and they went to war against each other.

"The Magi forced the Espers who served them to fight their battles. As destruction raged across the face of the world, many of the Magi extracted the power of the Espers and infused this strength into mortal men and women, granting them magical prowess and forming vast armies to serve the Magi.

"Eventually, the Espers grew tired of the slaughter. We have always been a part of the lifestream, and with every life we ended, we diminished ourselves. With our combined strength, we fashioned a separate world for ourselves, a world for Espers. We left this world behind to its destruction. We learned of the last three Magi to survive, who absorbed all ambient magic into themselves. And so we lived harmoniously in our own world, until nearly twenty of your years ago. Then humans found a way into our world, humans who remembered Espers and the power we possessed. Several of us were captured, our power drained to fuel his Magitek armor and create his Magitek Knights."

Celes lowered her head, unable to meet this Esper's wise gaze. Did he know of her magical power? Could he sense her as she did him? Could he know that she was one of the accursed Magitek Knights of the Empire?

But she was fortunate. Ramuh seemed to have no interest in learning about them. He seemed content to go on with his tale.

"To protect ourselves from humans," he continued, "we erected a doorway, a barrier to our world that only we could control. With the barrier in place, we threw the humans out, but knowing they would never give up, the rest of my people sealed themselves forever within our world. Those of us who were captured by the humans were taken to what they called the Magitek Research Facility. There, many of them are still, to this day, being drained of their power to fuel the power of the man called Gestahl. I have seen too many friends come near to death from weakness and despair. I fled with several comrades to avoid that fate."

Ramuh seemed to lose whatever energy he possessed, slumping in his chair. The others looked back and forth at each other. The Esper's words had given them a much greater sense of history and purpose. He was a being who had seen the War of the Magi, more than a thousand years ago. Ramuh had seen the worst cruelties and horrors of man, and had striven to make a better world for his people. He was not so different than the rest of them.

Sabin looked down at Terra, shifting uncontrollably on the ground. As gently as he could, he lifted her into his arms. Though she didn't awaken, her hands clutched at his shirt, as though trying to hold onto anything sure and solid. As tenderly as he could, Sabin laid her in the bed, dislodged her hands from his shirt, and pulled the covers back up around her.

Ramuh eyed the tall warrior as he approached Terra, who was moaning and gently writhing in the bed. The old Esper gently stroked her cheek and forehead, making Terra's unintelligible protests dwindle until she lay silent save for the gentle sound of her breathing.

"Yes, my dear, sleep. Relax. Let your sleep be untroubled by dreams," he murmured, then looked at the others, who were watching him with narrowed eyes. "I sensed that Terra was in trouble many days ago. I could feel her fear and confusion, and thought it best I be with her. It was my magic that summoned her to this town."

"Then… does that mean that Terra… is some kind of Esper?" asked Edgar, his voice full of confusion and wonder.

Ramuh shook his head gently. "No. Terra is actually something quite different. She is no Esper. But neither is she human. She is something else."

"She feels as though she's in pain," commented Sabin, staring hard at the Esper, "Her agony echoes through the lifestream."

"Isn't there _something_ you could do for her?" asked Locke, "A spell? A ritual?"

"There is nothing that we here can do for her," replied Ramuh, "This pain is her own doing. Her very existence strikes fear into her heart. She is terrified of the possibility of what she is, what she may be, and of what she may become. She will remain this way. But once she learns accept this… aspect of herself, once she realizes she has nothing to fear from what she is, I think she will be fine."

"Waroo!" called Gau sadly, "Want help pretty Miss Terra."

Ramuh's eyes seemed to encompass the entire group at once as that gaze swept over them. "There is something you can do," he offered, "There are still other Espers imprisoned in this 'Magitek Research Facility.' Free them. If my suspicions are correct, then one of them can certainly help your friend. There is no magic in the world, yours or mine, that can reach this child's troubled heart."

"Art thou certain we can find thy comrades?" asked Cyan.

"The research facility," mumbled Celes, swallowing hard, "That means… that means your people…" She trailed off, unable to finish her thought. Memories of the facility were too painful, even just what she had seen there. Celes suddenly felt sick.

Ramuh nodded slowly. "Yes. Like a coward, I fled that horrible place, leaving my friends there to suffer. I will be the death of them."

"What do you mean?" asked Edgar.

The old Esper was silent for several moments, staring at the floor. Then, he took a deep breath and looked up. There was a new determination in his eyes now, as though he had summoned some extra well of strength.

"Gestahl's methods of extracting the power of Espers are incorrect," he explained to them, "A living Esper cannot be drained of all of its power. Ever. Only when we are reduced to our final form, that of Magicite, can our power be fully transferred to others."

"Magicite?" asked Locke, "What the bloody hell is magicite?"

Ramuh sighed deeply. The look in his eyes was one of resignation and acceptance. "We have long believed that only by conscious choice is an Esper capable of passing away into the eternity of the lifestream. Our power and consciousness focuses, and while our spirits pass on, our power condenses into a crystal of power. Only in this manner can our power be fully relocated. Whoever wields the Magicite crystal of an Esper will have the capability to call upon them in times of need. As well, a tiny part of our spirit resides within the crystal, allowing us to teach some of the magical power the Esper had in life."

The ancient creature's eyes bored into each of them, and none could find the will to match that wise gaze. One by one, all averted their gaze from his. Ramuh then reached within the folds of his robes, and withdrew three crystal shards. Although each was unique, all of the crystals seemed to have a ruby heart, with bits of jade, diamond, emerald, sapphire, and other precious gems throughout.

"In life, these were my comrades," Ramuh told them, "They were Kirin, Stray, and Siren. Together we fled the Research Facility, but they were too greatly wounded in the escape, and bade me carry them to safety."

Ramuh handed the three shards of Magicite to Cyan, who stood closest. The elder knight took them with a solemn look of admiration for the Esper's courage and integrity.

The Esper's gaze encompassed all of the party, and he smiled wanly. "Together, you will always be greater than how you are as individuals. Together, you will do great things, and I am honored to have met you, young heroes. Now, I shall give to you what power I have left. Farewell."

Ramuh's eyes began to sparkle with power, and small bolts of lightning flashed from them. The lightning from the orb of his staff expanded from its boundaries, wrapping the ancient Esper in a wreath of lightning. There was a suddenly a flash, blinding all of the adventurers!

A crash of thunder added to the agony of the blinded party. It took several long moments for their vision to clear and their hearing to return. Floating in the air where Ramuh had stood only moments before was another shard of Magicite, the occasional spark of lightning still flickering across its faces.

Hesitantly, Locke reached out and took hold of the crystal. It was warm to the touch, and left his hand feeling tingly. He couldn't believe it.

"Are you really gone, old man?" he whispered, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat, "Bloody Ancients, why?"

Celes came up and gently laid a hand on the rogue's arm. Despite her promise not to let her heart soften, especially when it came to Locke, she couldn't help it.

"Locke… he knew that he could nothing more," she said softly, "His sacrifice will help us. He believed that we can make a difference."

"And we shalt do so," declared Cyan.

They all turned back to Terra, watching as she was almost motionless but for her breathing, and the occasional twitch of her head.

"We'll be back, Terra," Locke said to her, "Wait here. We'll come back for you."

"Be strong, Terra," whispered Sabin in agreement.

Silently the seven of them walked away, leaving Terra in the bed. When they reached the doors, Locke felt a strange compulsion to draw out Ramuh's Magicite shard. As soon as he did so, the crystal began to glow with power, and bolt of lightning shot out and into the locks of the doors, sealing them shut.

As they began to make their way down the tower, Edgar began to think out loud.

"If the Empire is draining Espers for their magical power, then Gestahl must know exactly where the gate to the Esper world is located," he reasoned, "If we can get ourselves down to Vector, not only can we rescue the other Espers for Ramuh, but we can get valuable intelligence for Banon and the rest of the Returners."

"Waroo! Find Esper home too!"

"Gau's right," agreed Locke, "Gestahl has had magical capabilities for years, but no one's ever suspected he had access to Espers. He's obviously been keeping this as one of the Empire's most important secrets. He wouldn't be able to do that unless the gate to the Esper world was very close."

"Draining the life energy from living beings," growled Sabin, who turned to look at Celes, "That kind of barbarism can't be possible. Celes?"

The blond general stopped in her tracks, her throat suddenly becoming very tight. She'd never seen anything specific, but there had always been the screams… Celes shook her head fiercely. This wasn't the time.

"I don't remember," she said to the tall warrior, "I was always unconscious whenever they… augmented me. And mostly it was years ago. But there were always rumors among the army, particularly the Magitek soldiers. And talk among the scientists within the Magitek Facility hinted at the fate of the Espers. I never wanted to delve too deeply."

She suddenly began pushing her way forward, leaving Sabin standing at the railing. For a moment he simply stood there looking into the endless sheets of rain, then turned and continued on with the others.

Finally, near the edge of the city they came to a halt, trying to determine their next course of action.

"If we doth be going into thou Empire's foul black heart," said Cyan, "We shalt need a way to arrive and flee quickly. We dare not tarry so close to thine foes."

"I am willing to lead you all through Imperial lands," Celes said to the rest of them, "I have lived there my entire life, and I know the lands and the city of Vector quite well. You will need my help to stay out of the hands of the Imperial patrols."

"I'll go with you," said Locke immediately, "I won't let you go there alone."

"We'll _all_ go along to Vector," insisted Edgar, "Getting there is going to be the problem."

"There's always something new going on in Jidoor," agreed Sabin, "There may be something or someone there who can help us. Owzer is perhaps the wealthiest man in the world, perhaps even more than Gestahl. His patronage of the arts and the sciences may have allowed him to find something of value to us."

Off to one side, Shadow listened to the others talk with cool detachment. He abruptly turned on his heel and began to walk away with Interceptor padding behind him.

"There is no need for me to remain with you," he said over his shoulder, "I take my leave of you now."

"Hey! Just a bloody minute!" cried Edgar, "The small fortune we paid you…"

"Was for my help in locating your friend, Terra," finished the ninja, "I have done this, and you have found your friend. Now you have a new mission, one that I have no interest in becoming involved with. Therefore, my contract with you is now over."

"Kojiro!" called Sabin, "You be careful. I need to make sure to even the score when we see each other again. The honor of the Ironhand will not be sullied by losing to a Kojiro."

Shadow barked a short laugh. "I look forward to the challenge, Ironhand. Honor and temperance."

Sabin's eyes widened at the quote that had become Master Duncan's motto. He wasn't about to let him get away with it so easily.

"May your blade be forever silent," he called to Shadow's retreating back. Only the ninja's abrupt stop gave any hint he was surprised by hearing one of his clan's own farewells. Shadow then continued on his way, disappearing into the shadows of the mountains.

That left the six of them standing around looking at each other. Suddenly, Sabin laughed.

"Well, Jidoor isn't getting any closer if we just stand around here all day. Without the chocobos it's going to be almost ten days before we get there. I think I can shave a day or two off the trip, but we might as well get started now!"

With that, the martial arts master turned and began walking away. Gau immediately ran over to him and stayed by his side.

Celes began to follow them with Locke beside her, as Edgar and Cyan hung back and began to speak quietly.

"Locke," she said to him quietly, "Why did you insist on coming with me so quickly?"

"Well, I… umm," Locke stammered nervously. He turned away from Celes so that she couldn't see him blushing. "There's bound to be some great treasures there in Vector for us to liberate. And besides, I've always wanted an inside look at the Empire. What better chance than this?"

Celes nodded once slowly. It wasn't the response she'd wanted, but it was the only thing she'd expected. She shook her head. Time to get back to work.


	17. Chapter 15: Opera Scandal

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I still live and continue to write. This update has taken forever to get finished, and while it is A LOT longer than I'd ever intended, I just couldn't find a good stopping point.

Buckbeak and MogGuy, as always I appreciate your comments. MogGuy, I always felt the 4 person limit was an artificial limitation, this way I could keep the relationship of the team expanding. There will be times when there are fewer people, but there will always be specific reasons, and not just because there can only be four.

New reviewer Opusj, welcome! After writing it that way, I guess I am borrowing a bit more from Wheel of Time than I originally thought, hope it doesn't bug you, but I'm not sure how much detail I'll put into that wound. Also, I'll do what I can with Gau, but he's tough for me to write and there's so much other stuff I have in my head to do that he might fall by the wayside. If that happens, I apologize, but keep it in your reviews and I'll try to keep it in my head while writing future chapters. Everyone else, thank you and enjoy!

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Sabin was as good as his word, leading the rest of them down through the Beldeth Mountains. Despite the fact that he chose a few mountain paths that were more treacherous than Edgar and Celes especially would have liked, Sabin was able to shave two days off the journey. A week after leaving Zozo, the six of them walked into the outskirts of the slums of Jidoor.

Traveling through the slums, called Jadar by the locals, the party looked at the inhabitants with great pity. Once again they paid the bribe to the soldiers guarding the gates into Jidoor proper, and they became surrounded by the ostentatious wealth of the city's natives.

Celes, however, was more interested in their quarry.

"So tell me," she began, speaking to no one in particular, "who exactly is this Owzer? How can he help us?"

"Owzer is the richest merchant in the world," explained Edgar, "His fortune exceeds that of Figaro, and there are rumors that it is greater than even the Empire's treasuries. His family has long held those riches, he's the 5th generation of his line to be the family patriarch and control that wealth."

"That doesn't explain why you're only addressing him by one name," retorted Celes.

Sabin took up the explanation from here. "Two generations ago, the heir of the family fortune was so arrogant that he dropped the name given to him at birth. The family name of Owzer became his only name. That began the tradition that the patriarch of the merchant house would drop his given name to be known only as Owzer. When this current Owzer dies or passes on the mantle of the family's leadership to an heir, the new patriarch will do the same thing."

Celes shook her head at yet one more example of northern madness. At least the people of the southern continent had a modicum of practicality.

A half-hour later, the six of them finally made it to the summit of the hill that Jidoor was situated upon. For a few moments, they could only stare in awe. Owzer's home was too large to be properly called a mansion; it was more along the lines of a palace. The building's architecture was graceful and fluid, with designs created from the placement of white marble, black lava stone, gold filigree, silver blocks, and gemstones inserted into strategic points.

"Burn me," whispered Locke.

Edgar looked around at the rest of his companions. He knew Owzer, having met the merchant once in South Figaro. Celes' white robes were as unblemished by stains as the first time he'd seen her in Narshe. Cyan's clothes still bore the marks of the house of Doma, and the way the knight carried himself spoke volumes more than any clothes he might wear. Sabin and Gau however, they weren't dressed for the occasion.

"All right, Locke, Celes, and Cyan. The four of us will go and speak to Owzer, see what we can find out. Sabin, you and Gau will have to stay out here. There's very little chance of us being seen with the way you two are dressed," said Edgar.

Sabin smirked. "You got a problem with the way I dress, big brother?"

"I have no objections," replied Edgar with a grin, "provided I stay upwind of you."

Sabin roared with laughter and even Celes cracked a smile. Sabin came up to Edgar and smacked him on the back, hard enough to make the Figaran king take several steps to avoid falling over.

"Gau and I will wait here for you," agreed Sabin, his eyes sparkling with mirth, "Come along, Gau. Mighty warriors such as ourselves shouldn't be involved with lousy merchants."

Gau skipped along happily, following Sabin out of the manor's grounds and into the crowds.

"Okay," said Locke, "Let's do this."

The four of them walked past the magnificent gardens of the manor. Edgar saw numerous exotic plants and flowers, some of which were in the Royal Gardens of Figaro Castle, some that weren't. Marble fountains with water spouting in every direction, benches made of silver with soft cushions, and gems inlaid in the walkway made every step an awesome sight.

They finally reached the doors, made of exotic southern darkwood. Both of the doors were wide open. Down the hall, they could see several men, one of whom was pacing furiously. Locke could barely hear their heated conversation.

"We're not gonna find out anything eavesdropping from the doorway," he said with a grin, then stepped boldly into the house.

"Sir Locke!" rasped Cyan, "This doth be most impolite."

"Chivalry is a dead code," replied Celes coldly, "It died with Doma."

She then stepped inside after Locke, not turning to look back. Edgar followed a moment later, shrugging sadly as he walked past the knight.

"Doma is not dead," growled Cyan, "Whilst I remain alive, so shalt Doma."

Inside the long hallway, magnificent portraits of the patriarchs of the Owzer merchant house adorned the left wall, illuminated by oil lamps along the walls and a grand crystal chandelier above their heads. Grand displays of the family's enormous wealth decorated every nook and cranny.

Locke led the others down the hall, and up a short flight of stairs to the right where he had seen the men disappear to. The stairs led to a small study that overlooked the main sitting rooms of the manor, providing an amazing aerial view. In the study were two men.

The first was pacing frantically, his short frame lending to many rapid strides as he crossed the room back and forth. His blue robes were clearly made of excellent silk, as was his over-cloak. Pins of solid gold held his cuffs tightly around his wrists, and he wore only a simple gold ring on his left hand.

The other man was older, with thinning dark brown hair and piercing eyes. He was dressed in a suit, the latest Jidooran fashion for men, with a black silk shirt beneath a gray jacket. Two gold rings, one with an enormous ruby and the other with an equally large emerald decorated his hands. He held a glass with a large amount of liquor within. Locke thought it looked like Nikean brandy. He saw the label on the bottle next to the man. _Good_ Nikean brandy.

"Why!" cried the man who was pacing, "Why did this flaming happen now? The bloody gambler is going to ruin everything! Burn me, Owzer, this is supposed to be my masterpiece! The work of a lifetime. Everything will be ruined!"

All four of the heroes noticed that the man seemed to be tightly gripping a letter in his hands, heedless of the fact that he was nearly crumpling it into a ball.

"Impressario, you're going to have to calm yourself," said Owzer soothingly as he took a drink of his brandy, "Everything will work out. I will hire an army if need be to…"

Owzer's voice died away as he saw the four of them standing near the stairs. The man called Impressario looked at Owzer as he stopped speaking, then turned the other way to follow his gaze. He too looked shocked as he saw them.

"Maria!" gasped Impressario. The man suddenly rushed to Celes and grabbed her by the shoulders, looking stupefied and relieved at the same time. "You came! Oh, praise the Ancients. Your bodyguards will be handsomely rewarded for bringing you safely to Jidoor. Oh, I could kiss you… yeouch!"

Celes had grabbed the man's arm and twisted it terribly, her strength far superior to his. "Never lay a hand on me," she growled, glaring daggers at the man, "I am not this Maria. My name is _General_ Celes."

Impressario nodded nervously several times, and Celes released his arm. Off to one side, Edgar did his best to cover his smirk.

"I- I'm sorry, my lady. Please forgive my rudeness," said the man, rubbing his wrist, "It's just… well, you could pass for the Lady Maria anywhere. I would be willing to bet you could fool her own bloody family."

At that moment, Edgar and Cyan were pushed aside as a young man made his way into the study. He bowed quickly to Owzer and Impressario.

"Lord Director," said the boy, "I bring you a message from the Lady Maria. She bade me to tell you that she has safely reached the opera manor of Lord Owzer, but she will refuse to leave for any reason. She has hired her own guards and warns you she will not hesitate to have them fight your own should you try and force her to go to the Opera House."

"What! How dare she…" growled Impressario, then he glared at the crumpled letter in his hands, "This bloody letter is the cause of all this trouble. I will have the gambler's head for this! Lord Owzer, I will take my leave now. I must convince Maria that we will have plenty of protection for her against this man so that she can perform. My most humble apologies, sir, I know you were hoping to spend some time with her, but…"

Owzer waved it off. "No trouble, Lord Director. Another time, perhaps. Please give Lady Maria my fondest regards, and my hope that I get the chance to see her perform tomorrow night."

Impressario bowed, then turned and hurried off, pushing past the four heroes and dropping the letter he held in the process in his haste to leave. Celes bent down to retrieve it.

"Who was that bloody lunatic?" she asked, "What is it about this letter?"

Owzer smiled grandly as he walked over to them. Edgar shook his head. The man had almost as good of a lady-killer smile as he did.

"That was Impressario," explained the merchant, "It is a name he acquired during his wanderings as a youth, and most people have forgotten the name he was born to. He is the Lord Director of Jidoor's Opera House to the south of the city. He's been nearly in a raving fury ever since that letter arrived."

The man's eyes swept up and down Celes form, something she had gotten used to long ago. First it had been the soldiers she'd commanded, and now since joining the Returners it had been every village boy they'd passed. One day she was going to lose control and kill the person who does that.

"Impressario wasn't lying when he said that you look like Maria," Owzer said to her, "Your face and figure are nearly identical to hers. A doppelganger in all ways that matter. Though I must say, you are perhaps even more stunning than she is."

Locke moved over closer to Celes and took the letter from her, spreading it open so that he could read it. It was surprisingly short, he was expecting something longer.

"My dear Maria," he read aloud, "I want you for my wife. I'm coming for you. Signed, the Wandering Gambler. Who the bloody hell is the Wandering Gambler?"

Owzer let out a peal of laughter. "My boy, were you born and raised on a farm in the farthest reaches of the north?" Owzer continued before Locke could come back with a retort. "That is moniker of Setzer Gabbiani. He's a world-traveling free spirit, denizen of every little casino or blackjack table across the world. And he is the owner of the world's only airship, known, appropriately enough, as the _Blackjack_."

"Setzer?" moaned Edgar, "Oh bloody hell, no. I lost 10,000 gold the last time I played on his airship! My ears are still stinging from Matron's scolding."

"This gambler doest possess an airship?" said Cyan wonderingly, "This doest sound to be a most monstrous contraption."

"With Setzer's airship, we could cross the ocean to the southern continent in a day at the most," said Celes.

"Let's find my brother," said Edgar, "and we'll figure out how to set up some kind of meeting with Setzer."

* * *

Sabin sat on one of the low marble walls, watching Gau as the boy playfully kept putting his hands through the running waters of one of the fountains. He had to admit he liked the kid, despite hating the fact that Gau continued to insist on calling him Mr. Thou. Maybe it was because it bugged him so much that Gau kept doing it. The kid was smarter than he let on.

He suddenly grimaced in pain. The shadowstone's scar pulsed with cold agony. He hadn't figured out yet what caused it to do so from time to time. Sabin suspected anger or ill-intentions from himself or others nearby triggered it back to life.

"Peasant!" yelled a voice.

Sabin turned and saw a squad of eight Jidooran guards march up to him. The leader sneered down at Sabin and then looked over at Gau playing at the fountain.

"What do you think you're doing here, swineherd?"

"I have paid the fee to be allowed entrance into Jidoor, sir," said Sabin civilly, even as the scar continued to ache, "My compatriots are currently meeting with Lord Owzer concerning some business. We will be gone soon."

"You presence is unsightly, and it is distressing many of our citizens," said the guard, "Get out of Jidoor, and take your pet with you."

A wave of anger passed through Sabin, the pain from the shadowstone scar was no longer cold; it burned red-hot.

"You and your pet must return to the slums of Jadar, that's where you belong," continued the guard, "Jidoor is a civilized and cultured city. It is not for the likes of you."

Sabin rose to his feet, a deceptively slow, liquid motion. He stood nearly half a head taller than the leader of the guards, and was broader across the shoulders. The guards all had soft leather armor. They would be no protection.

"My good captain, you're making me angry," said Sabin slowly, "This is a grave mistake on your part. Leave us alone, and we will be gone soon. I warn you not to test the limits of my patience."

The shadowstone scar began to pound like a hundred drums, the reverberations spreading throughout all of Sabin's body.

"Is that so?" said the guard arrogantly, then he turned to the others, "Take the slumlord and his pet back to Jadar where they belong!"

* * *

"I thought Sabin would be waiting for us outside Owzer's manor," groaned Edgar, "Don't go blaming me that he wasn't there."

"We'll blame you because it's convenient to do so," grumbled Celes.

Edgar shook his head. He just couldn't get a break with either of the two beauties he'd been fighting alongside. He needed a few days among civilized nobility to get his rhythm back. That was it. Edgar knew that once he had civilized merchant's daughters and ladies of nobility to work with, his talents would shine again.

"I see Sir Sabin," said Cyan calmly, "He doth be down this road."

The Doman knight led the other three down the road towards the gates for the city. They soon reached a fountain, where they saw Gau standing close to Sabin, his hand holding the boy's protectively. Eight Jidooran guards were scattered about, laying on the ground and moaning in pain.

"Sabin? Burn me, what the bloody hell happened here?" wondered Edgar.

The martial arts master turned to his older brother and his mouth quirked into a lopsided grin. "Nothing for you to concern yourself with, Ed. Just a minor difference of opinion on the state of equality of people with a few guards. We had a rather lively discussion, but I think I was able to sway them to my arguments."

One of the guards groaned a bit louder at that.

Locke and Celes stared at the barely moving forms of the guards. This wasn't like Sabin.

But Edgar only shrugged. "Well, are you finished debating? Or should we go on to the Opera House without you?"

Sabin chuckled. "Come on, Gau. Doesn't look like my brother's in a patient mood. What at the Opera House, anyway?"

"I'll explain on the way," answered Edgar.

* * *

There could be no doubt in any sane mind that the Opera House of Jidoor was one of the most beautifully-constructed buildings in the entire world. Its architecture included majestic white marble columns and graceful, sweeping lines. Sharp edges were virtually unknown in this place, everything was built to create a sense of elegant grandeur.

Ever aware of status and reputation, the wealthiest citizens of Jidoor had secondary homes built near the Opera House, some of them even larger and more awe-inspiring than their normal manors. Size and proximity to the Opera House were the main factors in the Jidoorans determining their status against the others. There was an entirely different social ranking here than in the city. Many great admirers of art and the theater concentrated themselves here, and thus had a higher social standing, but once back in the city fell into a lower social strata.

The late Queen Raehel of Figaro, an expert on politics and social niceties, had once commented that trying to understand the Jidooran social ranking system was like trying to find your way out of a maze while blindfolded and deafened.

Edgar nodded appreciatively at the Opera House as their group entered. The main chamber had floors of white marble, interspersed with veins of black marble. Luxurious scarlet carpets from the southern continent were strategically placed throughout the room. Three crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and wall mounted gold sconces held several shaded candles, bathing the room in a soft glow. Magnificent tapestries from all over the world hung against the walls. The overall result was awe-inspiring, and it worked.

"Now do you think you might care to enlighten the rest of us on what you're thinking?" Edgar asked Locke.

The rogue grinned. "Trust me. I have a plan."

"Ancients protect us from thy plans," muttered Cyan.

As the six of them moved further into the Opera House, they spotted Impressario from Jidoor in darker, midnight blue Jidooran suit. He was pacing back and forth nervously, but it quickly turned to shock when he spotted the group.

"You again!" he cried, "Get out of my pristine house! The likes of you are not welcome…"

Locke threw Setzer's letter into the man's chest. Impressario didn't need to look at it. He knew exactly what it was, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Looks like you have a bit of a problem," Locke said smugly, "I read that letter. Setzer's coming for Maria, and there's nothing you can do about it. Oh well, such a shame. You know his reputation, of course. Once he has her, you'll probably never see Maria ever again. That will be a tragic loss to the art of the theater."

Impressario broke out into a nervous sweat, and pulled out an elaborate lace handkerchief to wipe his brow. "That bloody gambler will likely show up just as the first act comes to an end. The entire audience will be sitting on the edge of their seats waiting to see what happens. What they'll see is that rogue kidnap Maria before their eyes! The man loves to make an entrance. The last time Setzer tried to kidnap her, he accidentally picked up some poor chorus girl and held her for a week. She was completely enamored with him after her return."

"Bloody hell," cursed Locke, "If only we could grab _him_ during the performance. That would simplify everything."

"Grab _him_!" echoed Impressario, "Dear Ancients, no! You would ruin the performance. Do you understand how badly my reputation and my career could be ruined with one poor performance? Do you know nothing of Jidoor? Everything must be impeccable."

"Then you have a problem," agreed Celes, just a little smugly, "If Setzer grabs this girl of yours, then you're history. What a pity."

Locke wanted to laugh out loud. Celes' comment couldn't have been better timed if he'd planned it this way. With her comment, Impressario had gone white. He was now putty to be manipulated, ready for what they needed. What a shame the others would never understand this.

_True genius is never appreciated in its own time._

"Then we let him grab Maria," he began.

Impressario's head whipped around and he stared at Locke as though the young rogue had suddenly grown a second head.

"But it won't be Maria he grabs," continued Locke, "We'll use Celes as a decoy, and after Setzer kidnaps her, we follow him right to the airship! A brilliant plan, if I do say so myself."

But Impressario was not listening to anything Locke had said beyond allowing Setzer to grab Maria.

"Are you mad! Haven't you heard what I told you! If something should happen to Maria – "

"That's why we use a decoy!" interrupted Locke, "We can keep Maria stashed away somewhere safe, somewhere Setzer will never find her. That leaves us free to do our job!"

"I beg your pardon?"

Locke sighed. Maybe the man was a brilliant director, but he was _so_ dense.

"You said back in Jidoor that _she_ looked like Maria, right?" he said, pointing at Celes.

At this point, realization began to dawn on the others. Sabin couldn't help but grin, and Edgar chuckled quietly. Even Cyan couldn't keep a smirk off his face.

Celes, however, was not amused.

"Now wait just a bloody minute!" she cried, her eyes going wide and her face flushing.

"Celes will play the part of Maria," Locke continued to explain, "She'll take over Maria's lines, so that when Setzer _does_ show up, the person he kidnaps will be Celes. She'll lead us right to his airship!"

If Celes had possessed Terra's fire at this point, Locke would have been burned to a crisp.

Impressario looked as though he had just received the highest of compliments from Owzer. "That _is_ brilliant! Fit for an Ironhand, indeed! Maria will be safe and yet the show can be performed! Magnificent!"

But Celes' face was set in a stony mask of rage. She stalked towards Locke, pushing Impressario aside so hard that he nearly fell to the ground. Celes marched right up to the rogue until her face was only inches from his.

"I am a warrior, a Magitek Knight, and a general of the Empire," she rasped harshly, "I am _not_ some bloody opera floozy!"

Locke gave her a confident smile that he really didn't feel, as at this moment he thought she might actually gut him with her sword. But he had to keep up with this charade.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard that. Maria," he emphasized, giving her a wink.

Growling in a very un-ladylike fashion, Celes turned on her heel and stormed away into a side room, slamming the door behind her. When she was finally gone, Cyan and Edgar shared a good laugh at their compatriot's predicament.

Gau pulled on Sabin's pant leg.

"Why Miss Celes mad?" he asked.

Sabin grinned. "Because she's very embarrassed right now."

"Why?"

"She has to sing in front of lots and lots of people, and she doesn't think that doing that is right for her," explained the martial artist.

"Miss Celes sing?" asked the boy enthusiastically, "I bet Miss Celes sing great!"

Sabin let out a hearty laugh as Locke grinned and crept towards the door Celes had disappeared into. He could hear Celes struggling to sing a clear scale without coughing. Locke chuckled and tossed the others a wink, knowing that he had won Celes over to his plan.

"Sounds good in there, Maria!" he called.

The string of curses that came from the other side of the door would have made sailors wince.

"Now what, gents?" asked Edgar as Locke rejoined them.

"I will send your lady to Maria's private dressing rooms," said Impressario, "and I'll have my singing coach work with her on her voice as well as her lines. There can be no mistakes tonight. I will send an extra contingent of guards to Lord Owzer's manor here to help protect Maria. Then we shall wait on the balcony level, that should give us a good view of everything."

"Very well sirs, then we shalt wait," agreed Cyan.

"Not quite," countered Impressario, "This is still a Jidooran production, and none of you can appear tonight in this building in your current attire. We have a few hours before guests start arriving, so you are going to my private tailor for some emergency clothes. Celes will be aided by Maria's own attendants."

"Clothes?" whined Locke. Why couldn't he just attend this shindig in his normal clothing choice?

Sabin laughed. "Well, they say that the clothes make the man, thief."

"The clothing thy tailor provides must suit us in battle," commented Cyan, "and what does thee plan for our armor?"

Impressario made some gentle calming gestures. "Don't worry about it. He'll take care and will integrate it all. Trust me, the man's a genius."

As they walked away, none of them noticed a fiendish creature hiding in the shadows. A creature that had tracked them from the Lete River all the way south, searching for the only beings to have ever eluded it. As a purple tentacle withdrew from the light, it left a sealed letter in its wake…

* * *

Celes was doing her absolute best to hold onto her legendary temper. Over the past four hours she had been forcibly bathed, argued about the cut of the gown with the dressmaker, who as a typical Jidooran woman wanted to reveal more than what Celes was willing to show, struggled into the tight dress, bodice, and corset, then had to endure her nails being painted, make-up being done, and hair styled all at once.

Never in her life had Celes been attended to by so many. Even as a general she'd had only one attendant to help her with her armor.

With everything going on around her, it was almost impossible for Celes to concentrate on the singing coach who had worked with her for the past few hours. The woman had finally convinced Celes that she had a wonderful singing voice and should stop trying to hide it, then had gone to work on the lines and choreography.

At this point, Celes would happily have gone back to her old ways of slaughtering innocent people.

* * *

The knock at her door was soft and tentative.

"Come in!" growled Celes. She had to admit that the red gown was gorgeous; it set off her blond hair and pale skin, the strips of cloth that covered what had to be covered were heavily embroidered in gold thread. The pure silk against her skin was luxurious, except for the corset that was tight across her stomach and threatening to suffocate her. The women who'd attended to her insisted that it accentuated her curves.

The ensemble was completed with heavy diamond earrings and a necklace set with an enormous ruby. The chief attendant had commented that Celes was easily as beautiful as Maria, and with just a few alterations to her dress could seduce any man. As if that was what Celes wanted!

_Burn all Jidooran women!_

"Good evening, Celes," said a quiet voice.

Celes spun on her heel, ready to vilify the person who had come to bother her, but the words caught in her throat. Sabin stood before her, dressed in a simple but clearly expensive black suit. The lapels and cuffs were embroidered with gold and silver trimming, and he stood in tall black boots with a silk shirt of royal blue. He was freshly shaved and his blond hair had been combed back, now held in place by an elaborate silver clasp.

For the first time since she'd met him in Narshe, Celes understood that Sabin had once been, and still was royalty. _Prince_ Sabin. She realized that he certainly looked the part. As easily as Edgar slipped between roles of majestic king and shameless womanizer, she was surprised that Sabin could be just as much of a changeling between rough wilderness warrior and dashing prince. It took her a moment to recover from her shock.

"Sabin?" she asked wonderingly.

The tall martial artist grinned. "Don't worry, it's still me, Celes. The same barbaric knuckle-dragger you enjoy belittling behind my back."

Celes blushed. So her little comments about his fighting style _had_ made their way back to him. She should never have made such comments whenever Cyan or Shadow had been in earshot.

The two of them stood looking at each other for several more uncomfortable moments. Celes realized that Sabin had come here to say something, but she couldn't bring herself to glare at him.

Finally, Sabin took a deep breath. "Celes, I want to apologize."

"For what?"

"For what I said to you back in Zozo," he explained, "What I said was wholly inappropriate. I had no right to feel that way or say such things to you. You are a decent person and I should never have treated you like that."

"Don't worry about it, Sabin," she replied with a shake of her head, "It wasn't you, it was the evil that Dadaluma inflicted on you with the shadowstone."

"No. No it wasn't," murmured Sabin, staring holes into the floor, unable to meet Celes' gaze with his own.

"What do you mean?" asked Celes.

The warrior took another deep breath. "The shadowstones don't inflict evil. They only release the evil that is already there, the darkness of a person's soul that lies dormant. It brings forth thoughts and feelings that most people instinctively suppress. So… somewhere in my heart's darkest corners I truly felt, and maybe still do feel that way. But it's not my place to feel like that, or to have said such things. I just wanted you to know how sorry I am."

Celes was silent for a few moments, absorbing what he had said. Sabin gave her a slight bow and turned to leave.

"Sabin, wait," she said, halting the tall man in his tracks, "I do forgive you. You have a stronger will and purer spirit than anyone I've ever met. Even among the rest of us. If I had been struck with the shadowstone, I know I never could have thrown off the evil that's within me. You're a true hero, Sabin. I'm glad you're on our side."

Sabin's ocean-blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he turned to look at her. "Me too. You're a good person, Celes. And a good friend, even as cold as you pretend to be. You have a warm heart. You can depend on me Celes, I'll be there when you need me."

Celes' mouth quirked into a grin. "What? No promise that you'll protect me, never let any harm come to me? You're not going to say you'll never let anything happen to me like every other man I've met?"

The martial arts master's grin quickly matched hers. "Well, I won't say to never let anything happen to you. After all, if I did that, well… nothing would ever happen to you. Not a very exciting way to go through life, is it?"

Celes almost chuckled, but managed to retain enough control of herself. Then Sabin's joking manner vanished, and his eyes became serious.

"And I won't promise not to let any harm befall you," he continued, "That's a promise that no longer can be enforced. The world is changing, and not for the better. Things that were once certain are now in doubt, and things that were once false are now true. I can't be certain that I can protect you. And I never make a promise I can't keep. What I _can_ promise is to be a friend."

She could only look at Sabin in shock for several moments. That was a true promise he'd made. Not some jest like Edgar to try and get her to sleep with him, not like Locke, trying to make amends for past failures. This was the promise of an Ironhand.

"You're a good man, Sabin," she told him, "and I'm glad to be your friend."

Sabin smiled and bowed again, then turned to leave. As his hand touched the doorknob, he paused.

"You look lovely in that dress," he said simply, then opened the door and left.

Celes was suddenly grateful that Sabin had left so quickly. He wouldn't be able to see her blushing.

* * *

Impressario stood meeting and greeting each of his esteemed guests as they entered the Opera House. Each and every one was a wealthy patron, for donating to the opera was seen as a prestigious expenditure of money. Standing with him were Edgar and Cyan.

Edgar wore silk robes of rich blue, with a polished breastplate inlaid with gold filigree with the symbol of Figaro. His long blond hair was held in a gold clasp that except for the material was the same as the one Sabin wore in his hair. His sword hung at his hip, encased in a new gem-studded scabbard. A crimson cape hung from his shoulders and a small gold circlet sat on his head, marking him as royalty.

Cyan had been dressed in the cyan and maroon colors of Doma, the cut of his outfit was cut more along military lines, though he too wore an elaborate breastplate with the insignia of Doma engraved upon it. His black hair was unbound and hung down to his shoulders.

Together, the two of them were greeting the guests and adding to Impressario's prestige. He'd made this demand as soon as they'd returned from being fitted for outfits. The presence of the King of Figaro and the Knight-Retainer of Doma would be impressive to all the wealthy of Jidoor.

Edgar was having a great time mingling among the noble ladies and those of the merchant houses, while Cyan kept his distance and spoke with only a handful of older gentlemen, merchants who had done business with Doma and wished to offer their condolences. Many asked Cyan if he had any intention of restoring Doma to its former glory, and offered their aid should he ever decide to do so.

Locke was mingling around with some of the nobles, his bandanna was for once not in its usual place around his head, but rather in a pocket of the long dark blue jacket he wore. Though possessed of no noble blood, Locke could wine and dine almost as well as Edgar, causing more than one young lady to become enamored with him.

Surprisingly, out of all of them, Gau was left in his normal attire of animal skins. The tailor had refused to work with him after the boy had knocked one of the assistants unconscious. Yet Impressario still managed to turn Gau's presence into a success, claiming the boy was a one-of-a-kind wonder from the mysterious, wind-ravaged plains of the Veldt. Gau loved the attention as he leapt about from one side of the room to the other.

In the meantime, Sabin followed Cyan's example and did what he could to stay out of the way. He'd gone through enough of these high society events as a child at Figaro Castle. Yet, once again, women flocked to him as much as they did to Locke and Edgar. The suit he wore did nothing to conceal the breadth of his shoulders, and Sabin knew he'd inherited the classical features that had made the men of the Figaro royal family irresistible to women for at least the last three generations.

Sabin did what he could to politely deflect the female attention, doing everything possible to turn them towards Edgar and Locke. Better to let them deal with it. Nevertheless, there was no shortage of women who suggested carnal liaisons with him after the opera.

Edgar looked over at his younger brother, who was trying to rid himself of yet another young noblewoman. Edgar chuckled as he wrapped his arms around the shoulders of two young ladies. If only he could persuade this Setzer _not_ to interrupt the show tonight, Edgar would have a wonderful evening planned. Oh well. He could always remember these ladies names and invite them to Figaro Castle at some later date…

Suddenly a small gong sounded throughout the room, drawing everyone's attention toward the balcony stairs. There, Impressario's House Manager stood in a plain dark suit.

"My lords and ladies, Lord Director, honored guests," the manager greeted, "our masterpiece production is set to begin in fifteen minutes. We beg you to please enter the doors below me and find your seats. Thank you and enjoy."

Edgar and Locke bade farewell to the ladies who they seemed to be courting, while Cyan, Gau, and Sabin made their way slowly through the crowds over to Impressario.

Together, the six men ascended the stairs to the balcony seats. The upper balcony had been built with the intention that only the most honored guests would sit there, until such time that others appreciated the arts enough for it to be necessary. Thus, the five men and one boy had the entire area to themselves. As soon as the heroes were settled, Impressario had to leave them to begin the introductions.

The men looked around with nods of admiration. In contrast to the grand entrance, the theater itself was designed with understated elegance. Soft drapes in muted reds and golds decorated the walls. The seats were carved in dark wood with soft cushions only lightly embroidered with gold thread. Another magnificent crystal chandelier hung above everyone's head.

As soon as the theater's patrons had taken their seats and quieted down, the lamps on the walls were extinguished and the light from the chandelier dimmed. Impressario was bathed in the light of the stage as he approached the center and turned to the audience. The orchestra struck up a soft, placid tune as he spoke.

"It was a time of war and loss. A time of heroes and villains, of honor and sacrifice. It was a time of triumphs and tribulations. The lands of the East and the domain of the West were waging a terrible war as they fought over the life a single, beautiful woman.

"Amidst the carnage of battle, Draco, the greatest hero of the Western lands, thinks of his love, the beautiful Maria, for whom he battles against the East. He wonders, is she safe? Does she yet wait for him?"

Impressario quickly left the stage as the curtains pulled back part of the way. The sets were amazing, showing the night sky with a glistening silver moon and twinkling stars.

Edgar and Cyan were watching with rapt attention, as their upbringing had given them a real appreciation for the arts. Locke and Sabin were lounging back, watching but their minds were elsewhere. Gau curled up in his seat and didn't seem to be paying attention at all.

A man strode onto stage, wearing shining armor and a helm with the visor up. A sword was in his hand as he moved about to the stage to the tune of the music, which had turned more martial. He seemed to be signaling to others, probably troops. Suddenly some chocobos, or rather, men in chocobo suits, charged out onto the stage, apparently running over the man, who they presumed was Draco.

As the chocobos disappeared off-stage, the man dramatically struggled to his feet, and stared off into the distant audience.

"Oh Maria!" he sang in a deep, reverberating voice, "Oh Maria! Please hear my voice! A thought, a whisper, and in my eyes I see your face. A moment, an age has passed since our parting. How I long to be with you again!"

_Celes will be coming out soon,_ thought Locke as he watched, unable to keep his mind off her even as he watched the opera playing out, _Someone should go wish her luck. Someone like me._

Without another moment's hesitation, Locke stood up. Edgar grabbed him by the arm.

"Everything all right?" asked the king.

Locke nodded. "Perfect. Just want to wish Celes luck."

Edgar released his arm and nodded. Locke nodded to Cyan and Sabin as he passed, then repeated his destination to Impressario as he passed the man. Locke descended back into the grand entrance and went into the back dressing rooms. The guards let him pass without question, as Impressario had given specific orders to them to let the heroes through.

Locke swallowed nervously. He couldn't understand why his palms were sweaty. This was Celes, his friend and teammate. That was as far as it went, wasn't it?

* * *

Celes was pacing the dressing room normally. She kept wringing her hands every time she looked over at the script, swallowing nervously as she tried to remember the choreography.

For the first time in her life, Celes was experiencing fear. Not because of any enemy or threat to her person, but sheer embarrassment. What would happen if she were to make a fool of herself? _Would_ she make a fool of herself? Celes tried to firm her resolve. She would not give Sabin more ammunition to tease her with, she had to keep the upper hand in _that_ situation if nothing else. Cyan would also no doubt delight in tormenting her if she failed in this task.

Celes did what she could to view this as simply one more mission. A mission of subterfuge. That helped, a little. Until she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and realized that she had never looked this made up before, even at the many balls and galas at the Iron Fortress.

There was suddenly a knock at her door and a voice called in. "Celes? Can I come in? It's Locke."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Yes, come on in Locke."

Locke strode in and opened his mouth to say something, but it locked in position, leaving him standing in the doorway gaping. He had never seen Celes look quite so amazing. The dress hugged her every curve, her golden hair looked as soft as silk, leaving Locke to want to do nothing more than run his hands through it. The lipstick made her lips seem full and inviting, and the makeup made Celes' face glow with a light of its own.

"Locke?" she asked quietly, "Are you all right?"

The young rogue suddenly felt himself blush a deep crimson, and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. Celes clear blue eyes seemed to gaze into his very soul.

Celes took a few steps closer to him. _I have to ask him,_ she thought, _I must know his feelings. Oh Terra, if you could only see me right now, remembering how you asked me about love. I must know the truth, I can't stand this uncertainty!_

_Speak, you bloody idiot!_ Locke raged at himself, _Tell her she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen! Burn you, get a move on! Bloody Ancients!_

"Celes? Is… is… is that you?" he managed to say, and instantly wished he could kick himself in the head.

Her soft smile seemed to fade a bit, and Celes looked rather pensive. Then her shining ruby lips parted as she spoke. "Locke, why… why did you help me back there?" she wanted to know.

Locke stood there thinking. He assumed she meant in South Figaro, Ancients it seems like that was years ago. But this time, he still couldn't answer truthfully. Before, it had been Rachel he'd been saving, but now… now he wasn't sure of his reasons.

"Celes," he began, swallowing hard, "You know… my most important secret. I… I abandoned someone, and I'll never forget that she needed me…"

"And so you were saving her," stated Celes coldly, as her heart froze once again. _I knew it_. She hadn't really expected the answer she'd wanted to hear, but it would have been nice, just for once, to have been wrong.

Locke was doing everything he could not to bang his head into the wall right now. There was a lot that he wanted to say, but he said none of it. He couldn't. At least not yet.

"I love that ribbon in your hair," he said, "It really helps bring out your eyes."

Celes nodded as she stroked the soft band of silk. Then she brought her eyes to meet Locke's. "It's just about time for me to join the show. This is where Maria sings her lament for Draco, regretting that they're not together and her hope that they are reunited."

She moved towards the back door of the dressing room, which opened into the access hall to the backstage. Stagehands were everywhere, running about in black robes and caps so that they wouldn't be seen. Locke gently took her hand, causing her to look him in the eye.

"Good luck," he whispered.

* * *

Impressario once again stood in the center of the stage, narrating the next scene.

"After one last, terrible battle, the forces of the West fell. The noble Prince Draco vanished and could naught be but dead. Prince Ralse of the East, Draco's rival for the hand of Maria, took her castle by storm, and though she refused him, Ralse took her hand in marriage by force. However, Maria's love for Draco never waned, nor did her heart's yearning for his love ever cease."

The curtains pulled back farther, revealing the set of a castle tower to the right side. Up on one of the balconies, Celes stepped forward for the audience to see her, and she began to sing.

"Oh my hero, so far away now. Will I ever see your smile? Love goes away, like night into day. It's just a fading dream… I'm the darkness, you're the stars. Our love is brighter than the sun. For eternity, for me there can be, only you, my chosen one… Must I forget you? Our solemn promise? Will autumn, take the place of spring? What shall I do? I'm lost without you. Speak to me, once more!"

Despite herself, Celes could only see Locke's face as she sung her lines, and she was nearly in real tears as she finished the last lines of the song. Celes managed to make it to the stairs and began to climb to the next level. The audience, impatient for the end of the scene, began applauding loudly.

In spite of himself, Cyan joined Edgar's and Sabin's applause while Gau hollered at the top of his lungs.

"That girl sure can sing," commented Edgar.

As Celes reached the upper balcony, Draco was lowered down by the stagehands, as a ghost. Together, the two of them began to dance. Celes was concentrating hard on remembering the footwork, but still managed to keep an appropriately dreamy look on her face. Finally the dance ended, and right on cue, a flashbulp temporarily blinded the audience so Draco could make his unseen exit, while a crewmember placed the bouquet of roses at Celes' feet.

"We must part now," she sang, picking up the roses and walking to the edge of the balcony, "my life goes on. But my heart won't give up on you. Ere I walk away, let me hear you say, I meant as much to you… So gently, you touched my heart. I will be forever yours. Come what may, I won't age a day, I'll wait for you, always…"

Sighing, Celes tossed the bouquet off the side, then barely acknowledged the man playing the palace chancellor, telling her she was to dance with Ralse. Finally the curtain closed, and Celes sighed again, this time in relief.

_If I don't kiss Locke the next time I see him_, she thought, _then I will flaming strangle him._

* * *

Standing backstage, Locke had been enchanted by the sound of Celes' voice echoing back to him. She really was wondrous. He only wished it could have been him that was in her thoughts.

"Way to go, Celes," he cheered quietly.

With a weak smile, Locke turned back towards her dressing room, figuring it was about time that he rejoin the others. He passed through the room, and just as he opened the door to leave, he spotted a letter laying on the floor. It looked as though it had been briefly dropped in a puddle, it was so damp.

Curiosity got the better of him, and Locke opened the letter, reading it softly to himself. The handwriting was nearly illegible, but he managed. "I owe you one for humiliating my royal heritage, so I'm going to ruin your pretty work. Ultros. Who the bloody hell is Ultros?"

But the walls didn't have an answer. Locke hurried out of the dressing room. He had to show this to the others.

* * *

"Ultros!" cried the Figaran brothers in unison.

Edgar snatched the letter from Locke's hand. "That slimy piece of ink-filled, oil-coated garbage heap!

Sabin said nothing, but his eyes lit up like miniature infernos, reflecting the pain and heat that suddenly throbbed from his shadow-scar. He had a lot to make Ultros pay for, a lot.

"You know him?" asked Locke, shocked.

Edgar nodded. "He attacked us on the Lete River, after we left Mt. Kolts with Banon on our way towards Narshe. We taught him a decent lesson, but that's how we lost Sabin for nearly a month. But what I can't understand is how he left a note! He's an octopus, he can't live out of water!"

"Waroo! Big ugly!" cried Gau, pointing.

The others followed the boy's gesture and could just make out the aerial girders high above the stage. A grotesque, tentacled creature could just been seen in the shadows. It was pushing something ahead of him.

"That looks like one of the counterweights," said Impressario in horror, "They can weigh up to a couple tons, used when we need to balance a set or a backdrop. Is that what this fiend is planning?"

"Whatever he's doing he doesn't look strong enough to do it quickly," said Sabin, "We might have a few minutes before he can get that thing into position above Celes. But we have to hurry."

"We _have_ to save her!" cried Locke, "We can't let her…"

"We _will_ save her," insisted Edgar, grabbing his friend by the shoulder, "and we need to get moving. We haven't a second to lose!"

"Talk to the aerial director on stage left, he can tell you how to get there," said Impressario.

"Good, let's move!" said Edgar, heading off to the left.

"NO!" cried Impressario, halting the men in their tracks. They looked at him in curiosity for a moment. "Not house left, _stage_ left, the _other_ left!" he cried, pointing to the right.

Shrugging at the madness of the director, the five of them raced towards the right. Below them, the scene had changed from what had been a gala with the nobles dancing, now it turned out that Draco had never died, but instead had rallied the last of his followers for one final attack against Ralse. Now the two men were engaged in a mock duel for the hand of Maria, or Celes in this case.

Locke ignored what was happening below them, he could only think of Celes. He was the first of them to burst into the crew room. Off to one side was an elderly man.

"Bloody Ancients!" he cried, "You guests can't just come up here and…"

"Someone's planning to drop one of the weights on the actors!" interrupted Locke, "We have to get out onto the girders and stop him."

"What! Never mind, you can explain later. Follow me!" said the man, who then led them closer to the center of the stage, "Go out here, you can get this maniac. But be careful, the girders can get kinda narrow…"

Locke raced out without letting the man finish, followed a moment later by the rest of them. The man hadn't lied, a few times the girders became less than a foot wide, making them travel single file. But Locke didn't pay attention, he could see that Ultros, an enormous, monstrous fiend was inching ever closer to the end of the girder.

He could hear Edgar almost yelling for him to wait, but Locke couldn't. He couldn't waste the time. Ultros was too close. Locke finally rounded the last turn of the girders and put on an extra burst of speed. Ultros was at the edge, and only another few inches was keeping Celes alive.

Suddenly, Ultros saw Locke racing for him, and turned to face the rogue.

"You will not stop me from my revenge!" roared the creature.

Three of Ultros' tentacles lashed out, but Locke leapt forward, spinning to avoid the giant octopus' strikes and threw himself squarely into the mound of soft purple flesh. Beneath him, Locke could hear the girder groan under all of their weight.

"Uh oh," he muttered.

The girder suddenly snapped under the weight, and both he and Ultros cried out in surprise and fear. Their cries alerted the actors beneath them, giving them just enough time to dodge out of the way of the falling weight. The metal counterweight smashed through the stage, followed a moment later by Ultros. The twin landings caused everyone on stage to scatter, throwing themselves to one side.

Locke was surprised to land on something soft, namely Ultros. However, he was more surprised to find himself bouncing off and landing hard on the stage, nearly causing him to black out.

Ultros slowly raised himself up from the hole in the stage, turning his beady eyes on the audience. Some people screamed, others applauded thinking it was part of the opera.

"This is a disaster," whispered Impressario, who had made it to the side of the stage.

Ultros' tentacles flashed out, wrapping themselves around Draco, Ralse, and Celes, the latter of which was pounding against the tentacle with her fists.

"Let me go, you overgrown squid!" she yelled.

The two men however, were whimpering in fear.

"Who will save you now, my delicious little morsel?" demanded Ultros with a laugh.

Locke wobbly rose to his feet. "Neither Draco… nor Ralse… will save Celes!" he declared, a little unsteadily, "Indeed! I… Locke Cole… the world's premier adventurer will save her!"

The crowd apparently loved it and began to applaud loudly.

"You cannot hope to defeat me!" roared Ultros, "I am of the seaborn royalty. You stand in the presence of the Lord of the Deep, King of the Sea Realm! I am descended of the Ocean Lords of the War of the Magi! I will never fall to a lowborn thug such as you!"

With that, Ultros lashed out with two of his tentacles. Still a bit woozy from the fall, Locke was able to cut his dagger across the first striking appendage, but the second wrapped itself securely around him.

"Now," sneered Ultros, bringing Locke close to the razor-sharp teeth of its mouth, "who is going to save you?"

"ULTROOOS!"

All eyes turned up, and Locke and Celes were shocked to see Sabin hurtling down through the air, one fist drawn back. All of Ultros' remaining tentacles tried to stop him, but Sabin was moving with the speed of a diving hawk. Celes could see a white-gold glow surrounding his fist. Sabin passed through Ultros' defenses and struck his blow right between the creature's eyes.

Ultros let out an eerie scream of pain as its tentacles spasmed, dropping Locke, Celes, and the two actors to the ground.

Sabin planted both feet between Ultros' eyes and sprang backwards in a smooth back somersault, landing a predatory crouch.

A moment later, laughter came from above as Edgar and Cyan slid down ropes from the rafters and smoothly drew their freshly polished swords upon landing. Gau landed heavily on the stage floor, growling at Ultros.

Edgar looked over at his younger brother, shaking his head slightly. It takes a certain brand of foolhardy courage to willing leap into a hundred foot fall.

In the audience, men and women alike were giving the combatants a standing ovation, while noble ladies were throwing handkerchiefs and single roses onto the stage. Edgar picked up one of the perfumed lace handkerchiefs and brought it to his lips in a regal kiss to all the ladies in the audience.

_Ahh, life is too short,_ he lamented.

"All right Ultros," declared Locke grandly, "time for the fight of your life!"

Locke, Edgar, Cyan and Gau leapt forward amidst the whirlwind of tentacles that lashed out towards them. Cyan stumbled during his charge from an exceptionally heavy blow, while Gau leapt on top of one of the tentacles and used it as a spring to launch himself closer to Ultros. As he arrived, both fists crashed into Ultros' body with the force of sledgehammers.

Locke and Edgar slashed at tentacles near them until they made their way to Ultros' body, where they weaved and dodged around tentacles as they struck repeatedly at his soft form.

The audience was cheering so loudly that the others never heard Sabin's warning. Not until a beam of spiritual energy lanced across the stage and scorched Ultros and the crowd fell silent.

"YOU!" roared Ultros, "This might not be my lucky day, but you shall not enjoy victory as you thought. Farewell losers!"

With that, a massive dark cloud of ink and fumes enveloped Ultros and everyone on stage, leaving the heroes coughing and gagging. After several moments, the cloud finally began to dissipate, revealing that Ultros had escaped through the hole in the stage floor. Sabin raced over and leapt down into it as Locke ran over to Celes and wrapped her in a tight embrace.

The audience's cheers were deafening as Locke spun around with Celes in his arms, and flowers were flung at their feet.

"Just look at him," Edgar commented to Cyan, grinning slightly, "Just look at that ham actor, trying to steal the show from nobles like us."

"Perhaps Sir Locke doest not be acting," suggested Cyan.

Edgar shook his head. Leave it to Locke to hook up with a girl in front of 200 onlookers. Then he looked down into the hole left by Ultros.

"Anything down there, bro?" he called to Sabin.

A moment later Sabin reappeared, and with a single leap hurtled back onto the stage, landing lightly on his feet.

"The coward escaped," he growled, "there was a side access tunnel to a well, which I can only presume connects back with the ocean somehow. We haven't seen the last of him."

"Not so fast, my friends!" called a new voice, "Perhaps the performance of a lifetime, but none are as great as I!"

A man suddenly swung down from the rafters, silver hair and long black coat flapping behind him as he scooped Celes out of Locke's arm in one swift move before he was swing back up to one of the landings. The crowd gasped and broke out into applause.

"Burn you Setzer!" roared Impressario.

Setzer's blue-green eyes sparkled with dark humor as he looked down on the entire gathering, including the five men who race to where he was standing. Setzer released the rope he'd used to swing across stage and instead grabbed a new one. The lovely woman in his arms was completely still, her eyes still wide with surprise.

Setzer smirked down at Impressio as he gave a mock-gallant bow. "I'm a man of my word, my Lord Director," he said sarcastically.

Then he rose through the roof of the theater, leaving only his echoing laughter.

"This is Setzer!" cried Celes, "Locke!"

"Bloody Ancients!" roared Locke, then he and the others raced out of sight.

As the audience began to murmur amongst themselves, Impressario hurriedly took up a position center stage.

"And in a most extraordinary reversal, the Lady Maria, saved from certain death by the adventurer Locke, is kidnapped by his jealous rival Setzer! What fate lies in store for the beautiful Maria? Whom will she choose? All will be answered in the sequel!"


	18. Chapter 16: Blackjack

What's this? An update? The story lives! Mwa hahahaha!

I really need to thank all of you who continued to review despite the fact that I seemed to drop off the face of the earth. MogGuy, yes, all 14 characters will be included, but Gogo and Umaro will have _extremely_ limited parts. I want to focus on the 12 main characters for the most part. Opusj, thanks for your candor, I don't intend to make the shadowscar that much more of an issue, every once in a while I'll bring it up, but it won't be the reason that Sabin does things. Lock93, I appreciate all of your reviews and your advice on both the story and the game. I'm really glad you read Dark Esper, some of my reviewers fail do to so and never see where the storyline eventually progresses to. Finally, to Agent00Latin and Joe, I hope to continue updating, even if it is infrequently, work has been murderous lately.

To everyone else, thank you for sticking with the story through my long absence. But for now, once again… thank you, and enjoy.

* * *

Celes grunted as Setzer dropped her rather unceremoniously to the floor. It was hard and metallic grating, and as she looked up her eyes quickly mapped out the room. It was clearly an engineering room of some kind, maybe Edgar could figure out what it could do. Gears, engines, pulleys and even more esoteric examples of high technology were in sight. The rope that had pulled Setzer and herself up was connected to a winch and pulley system that a man was just securing.

There were three men in the room besides Setzer. The one working the winch and two others.

Setzer went up to the one in front, a tall, grinning man and shook his hand warmly.

"Welcome back, skipper," said the man, "I see you, uh, picked up… your new lady."

"That's one way to put it, Janson," replied Setzer with a chuckle, "Prep the engines. We have what we came for, time to make ourselves scarce."

"Understood, Cap'n. Let's go, guys," Janson turned to the other two and led them out of the room.

Setzer turned to Celes and bowed grandly. "Please forgive me my dear, but I have some things that I need to take care of. Please wait here and I will be back in a few minutes to bring you to more… comfortable quarters."

With a superior, victorious smile on his face and a whirl of his black longcoat, Setzer vanished through the door. Celes was on her feet in the blink of an eye and went straight for the door. It was locked. Not a surprise, of course, but still a disappointment. Without a word she turned back to the room. She and Setzer had been pulled up through an open area of the floor, one that was surrounded on all sides by a railing. Obviously to prevent accidents.

Celes gave a very un-ladylike snort. _I could think of one or two people I'd love to see having an "accident."_

But that thought passed out of her head moments later as she stared down towards the Opera House. The sun had fallen below the horizon hours ago, and even with the grand lights at the entrance of the Opera House, Celes still could hardly see anything.

Finally she saw what she was looking for. A single light on the roof of the Opera House, and this one was moving. Smiling, Celes kicked the release on the rope winch, letting the rope drop to the ground. As the airship's engines began to start up a minute later, Locke's head finally appeared in the opening, his dagger held between his teeth, looking like some well-dressed storybook pirate.

Celes almost laughed.

Edgar and Cyan came up next, drawing their blades as soon as their feet were firmly planted. Cyan was muttering a string of curses about the "bloody technological monstrosity." Gau popped in a few moments later, his eyes wide and unable to stay in one spot for longer than a second or two. Sabin was up last.

"Celes, I got to hand it to you," said Locke, "Two performances of a lifetime tonight!"

"Shut up," she growled angrily, knowing she wasn't going to live this down for a long time to come.

"On the other hand, now comes the toughest role," he continued with a grin, "The sequel! Now, where's Setzer?"

Celes glanced back towards the door into the rest of the airship. "On his way back by now," she said quietly, "Some members of his crew were waiting for him. He should be back any minute."

No sooner had the words left her mouth when the door flew open again and Setzer strode through. He stopped short on seeing the four men and the boy standing protectively around Maria. Three of the men were armed with blades, the boy and the last man held no weapons, though judging from the way they held themselves, it was by choice. Understanding flashed in his mind and he nearly snarled.

"Who are you!" he demanded fiercely, "You are _not_ Maria!"

Locke noticed the gambler was turning something over and over in his hand. When he looked closely, he could tell it was a playing card. A card with an edge that glinted metallically in the dim lighting.

_Razor-edged playing cards?_ he wondered, _Ancients, this guy is ready for anything._

"Setzer, we need your help," Celes said to him firmly as the rest kept silent. They knew that she probably had the best chance of convincing Setzer to help. "My name is Celes Chere, formerly an Imperial general and now with the Returners. The group of us need to get to Vector to… to rescue some allies. We need your airship to do it."

"Does the _Blackjack_ look like your private coach?" Setzer retorted, "I came to the Opera House to convice Maria I was the man for her. So since you are obviously _not_ Maria, I have no reason to want you aboard."

Setzer turned away, clearly intending to summon some members of his crew to have them removed from the airship. Celes racked her brain to figure out how to salvage this. They coulding't lose the airship. Going by sea would take days or weeks depending on what port they left, and then a similar amount of time to escape the southern continent. That just wouldn't do.

_Setzer seems to like his women a little more docile,_ she thought, _I am going to kill Locke for making me simper like a little girl!_

"Wait!" she cried at Setzer's retreating back. She allowed a note of desperation into her voice that halted the gambler and made him turn back to them. Now that she had his attention, her tone softened to one she couldn't remember ever using before, one that was at once sweet, pleading, and seductive.

"We were told that the _Blackjack_ is the finest vessel in the world," she told him, "Faster than anything the Empire can field, and that you were a pilot of extraordinary skills."

"More than one told us you were the most notorious gambler in the world," added Locke, having caught onto Celes' ploy, "I can't see how someone like you could fail to beat the odds and have the Returners owe you something we'd never pay off."

"Setzer, you remember me, I'm sure," said Edgar, "King Edgar of Figaro. I can assure you that your reward will be more than you can imagine."

Setzer grinned at that. "I don't know, I can imagine quite a bit."

"Good sir, I am Cyan, late of the kingdom of Doma and Retainer of my lord King Gareth, "By now thou must knowest of the tradgedy that hath befallen my home. We need thy aid."

By this point, Setzer's face wore a tiny smirk as his eyes flicked over to the largest man.

"And what are _you_ going to ask, or offer me?" he asked in a superior, mocking voice.

Sabin shook his head. "I have nothing to offer. You will do what your ethics and your conscience tell you to do. As the heir of Ironhand, I can ask for no more than that."

Edgar noticed Setzer's sharp intake of breath at the mention of Ironhand. Ancients but his little brother's career choice was good for shock value.

Swallowing hard, Setzer ran a hand through his silver hair, frowning as he thought. There was silence for several moments, Setzer simply tapping the playing card he still held against his chin as his mind was clearly working over the problem. After a while, he seemed to come to some kind of decision, and the smile he gave them never reached his eyes.

"Come here," he said gently to Celes.

She blinked at the request, or order, and almost threw her fist at his nose. But still playing the docile girl for him, she slowly walked up to him. Celes stood stoicly as Setzer reached up and gently brushed a hand against her cheek, then a finger traced her jawline. All the while Setzer's eyes never left hers, and Celes had the feeling he was appraising her as he would some rare gem.

"And?" she said. Celes did her best to sound bored and annoyed, but that blue-gray stare of his made her nervous, and even she could hear the trembling in her voice.

The others must have heard it too, for they all shifted slightly, more prepared to spring into action if they had to.

Again, Setzer smiled without warmth. "Don't misunderstand me, my dear. I haven't decided whether I'm going to help you… or have my men evict you from my ship. At our current altitude."

Locke snorted. _I'd like to see you try it, you overdressed weasel! _he thought.

Setzer didn't seem to expect a response from any of them as he turned around and left the small engineering room.

Celes turned to the others, knowing that her face mirrored their surprise. Quickly she followed Setzer, pleased to discover that this time the door had been left ajar.

Sabin took the rear, frowning to himself. Usually his connection to the lifestream gave him the ability to pierce the defenses people put up around themselves and see who they truly were. He trusted this ability, and so he knew that he could trust Celes and Terra, no matter what the risk, and that Shadow was a good man beneath the rumors and the armor of mystery the ninja had surrounded himself with.

But his talent was of no avail here. Apparently Setzer's skill at the cards was more than just a hobby. It had actually provided a good defense against the powers of the lifestream.

_Impressive_, he thought, though he made sure to keep the compliment to himself.

They quickly ascended from the lower level of the airship, where the engineering spaces were, into the guest quarters, and finally into the main level. The gambling and entertainment hall ran the length and breadth of the ship, with only a small area in the back providing stairs up to the main platform and down into the rooms. A walkway ran along the edge of the ship, providing a great view from the massive windows, while the tables and lounge were several steps below.

Setzer stood on the far side of the airship, staring out of the oversized windows into the last rays of the sun as it sank into the sea. As the party made their way over to Setzer, they slowly realized that aside from Setzer and themselves, the only other people in the gambling floor were a few liveried attendants making slight cleaning and maintenance adjustments. Apparently the ship was entertaining no patrons tonight.

_How much money must an operation like this cost?_ wondered Edgar, though he knew the profits from offering such high-stakes gambling was certainly the bulk of the revenue.

_As long as there are fools with money, they'll always try gambling to make more._

Edgar suppressed a grin at one of Matron's scoldings after he'd returned from such gambling trip on the airship.

Setzer noticed their approach in the window and turned to face them. Celes ran a hand across her forehead nervously, ostensibly to brush aside some strands of hair from her elaborately-done tresses, even though none were there.

"Persistent, aren't you, my dear?" commented Setzer with a smirk, "I like that in a woman. You're asking me to choose sides in a war that has nothing at all to do with me. Especially on the side with lesser wealth, manpower, weapons, and willingness to project power. Seems like a lost cause to me. Acquiescence to the demands of the Empire has made me a very rich man. You're asking me to give all this up, out of the goodness of my heart?"

The last bit was said with such sarcasm made Cyan flinch. An Empire built on the blood of innocents, and this foul gambler didn't think twice of the childrens' blood that had come came through this monstrosity via the Empire.

"Stop it!" cried Celes, surprising herself with her vehemence, "Stop thinking of yourself!"

Setzer raised a single eyebrow, though whether in amusement or curiosity, Celes wasn't able to tell.

She pushed onward, however. "The Empire cares nothing about the people who get hurt in their push for domination. Emperor Gestahl's dream of a single united Empire sounds great, to those already a part of the Empire. For those outside of it, the sight of an Imperial legion means death. Towns and cities across the world have been burned to the ground, ground into ashes, and otherwise utterly annihilated by the Empire."

Locke decided it was time to throw his weight to this argument. If nothing else, Setzer hadn't decided to throw them off the ship… yet.

"The Empire's black heart is rotten to the core," he growled, "Gestahl has uncovered the secrets of magic, and he's using that knowledge to empower his armies for a single purpose. He wants to enslave the entire world and have squirming under his boots.

Setzer turned elegantly to face Edgar. "I'm somewhat surprised to see the likes of you here, King Edgar. The Empire's strongest northern ally? Working alongside the Returners?"

"Figaro and the Empire _were_ allies," he said gruffly, "until recently, when Kefka led a legion against my people and took them hostage."

"Perhaps thou also hath not heard of the events of Doma," added Cyan, "My people… my king… my wife and son… all slaughtered by the order of Kefka using thee basest of horrible weapons: poison!"

Setzer's eyebrow went up again at their admissions, as though flying among the clouds had blinded him to the reality on the ground. He turned back to the window, looking at the play of the red haze of the sun below the horizon, as the black of night overtook them even this high in the clouds.

"The Empire. Evil?" Setzer muttered to himself, "Hm."

The last sound came out as though the gambler had never before considered the possibility. Yet his seemingly casual acceptance was similar to a man who had just figured out a difficult puzzle, and only now saw the shortcut.

"From what you've told me so far, I would say your war is against one man; Kefka," said Setzer easily, "The Empire as a whole seems to have done nothing to you. Who can say whether Emperor Gestahl even knows of these events? His generals have a great deal of autonomy outside the Southern Continent. Trust is necessary for him, so what if it is only Kefka who deserves your wrath? Gestahl's empire has unified the Southern Continent and kept order for more than a decade. Not that I'm saying I necessarily _like_ stability and order, it tends to hinder chance and luck."

"Look sir, everyone here, every single one of us hates the Empire for the same reasons," said Celes, trying once more to plead to Setzer, though she hated it. Celes wished for nothing more than to throw a punch into this lace-ruffled fool's nose. "That's why we need…"

Her breath caught as Setzer whirled around with terrific speed and amazing grace. Before Celes could move, Setzer had taken hold of her cheeks and gently pulled her face close to his own. Her eyes widened and her breathing became quick and shallow as she realized their lips were only a hairsbreadth apart. If she just leaned in slightly she would…

_No!_ Celes yanked the errant though back into place and wanted to shake her head. _What is wrong me! I'm not this fool's toy, to be used at his pleasure and discarded! I am a general!_

"You know," Setzer said in a tantalizingly soft, slow drawl, "you're even more stunning than Maria."

Celes felt her mouth go dry. On the way to the Opera House from Jidoor, Edgar had told them stories of the wondrous beauty of Maria, whose beauty would make a lion stop its attack, and whose singing could make it cry.

Celes couldn't believe anyone was comparing her to that woman. That was not the kind of person she was. She was a warrior, a soldier! She didn't want to be thought of in that way!

_Then why are your cheeks growing warm?_ she heard herself ask in a little voice.

_Shut up!_ she shot back.

By this point, Setzer had pulled back a little and was stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

Locke was grinding his teeth so hard he wouldn't have been surprised had one of them cracked from the strain. Seeing this buffoon handle Celes like that… it disgusted him. He _hated_ Setzer. The man had no right…

Locke jumped a little when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking behind him he saw that it was Sabin's hand. Only then did Locke realize that he'd taken half a step forward, and his hand was tightly gripping the hilt of his dagger. Quickly he released the weapon and stepped back to his starting point, only then did Sabin's hold on his shoulder relax and fall away.

"All right, gentlemen," Setzer said quite suddenly as he pulled Celes to him until they were hip to hip, "I've made my choice. I'll help you get to the Southern Continent. Burn me but I'll take you all the way to Vector itself. On one condition. Celes must agree to become my wife. Otherwise, no deal."

Celes gasped and felt her cheeks growing red. From embarrassment or anger, she couldn't tell which.

Locke's opinion on the manner was far less subtle. "What!" he cried, rage burning his heart and wanting to put his dagger through Setzer's chest, "Are you a bloody fool! Do you think we'll just go along with this while you manipulate Celes for your own twisted desires! Bloody Ancients!"

Despite Cyan's distaste for the former Imperial general, even he was having difficulty justifying this in his mind.

Celes' eyes dropped to the floor and her features became regretful. "I suppose we don't have any choice. We need this airship," she said mournfully.

"Celes," breathed Locke in horrified astonishment, "You can't… you can't _do_ this!"

Setzer gave the young rogue a triumphant smirk. "Many apologies, my boy. But the matter seems to be settled. The best man wins."

"But… before I agree to this," began Celes softly, a curious light in her eyes, "I do have a few conditions."

Grinning slightly, Celes went over to Edgar and leaned close to him, whispering something in his ear. Even Sabin's sensitive hearing couldn't pick up what she was saying, but after a moment Edgar's grin match hers and he pressed something into Celes' hand.

Walking back towards Setzer she opened her hand, showing a Figaran gold coin in her palm.

"Let's decide this with the toss of a coin," she said slyly.

Sabin's eyes narrowed. She was being clever.

_What is she up to?_ he wondered.

"If it comes up heads," she continued, "then you help us. No conditions, no exceptions, you do everything you would do if I had married you. If it's tails, then I'll marry you, and you help as you promised. Well, Mr. Wandering Gambler, what do you say to that wager?"

Setzer's mouth quirked into a satisfied grin, one of the first they'd seen that actually reached his eyes. The man chuckled heartily.

"All right," he said nodding in approval, "I accept your wager."

But Locke wasn't about to let this go without a fight. Celes was the most beautiful, wondrous woman he'd ever met, he couldn't just let her throw herself on this pervert's mercy.

"Celes, listen to yourself!" he cried, "You can't become his wife over this. We'll find some other way. But you can't marry him! You just… you _can't_!"

Celes walked softly up to Locke, still slightly smiling. Gently her hand came up and two fingers pressed against his lips, silencing him. With her back to Setzer, she gave Locke a broad smile, and then winked. Locke's mouth fell open in astonishment and confusion, but Celes had already turned back to Setzer.

"Ready?" she asked him.

_Oh Celes,_ Locke groaned to himself, _Why are you tormenting me like this?_

"Toss it," said Setzer.

Taking a deep breath and silently praying this worked, she tossed the coin into the air. The gold spun end over end, reflecting what light remained in the room. Celes made no move to catch the coin, rather she let it fall to the floor. All the while, Setzer's eyes never left hers.

"Something wrong, my dear?" he asked arrogantly.

Swallowing hard she knelt down to pick up the coin, hoping no one noticed her blushing.

_I'm acting like a weak-kneed farm girl_, she raged at herself, _Pull yourself together soldier! The mission isn't over yet!_

She looked back at Setzer, grinning triumphantly. "I win," she said simply.

Setzer's smirk vanished as he looked at the ground, and sure enough, the face of an old Figaran king stared back at him. His eyes looked up to meet Celes' gaze, then flicked over to Edgar.

"Now honor your side of the bargain," she demanded.

Locke was just about ready to pass out, he was so relieved. He felt someone take his hand and saw that it was Gau, smiling up at him. Locke gave the kid a wide grin and nodded in thanks.

Setzer, meanwhile, bent down and picked up the coin himself, examining it and turning it over in his hand. Sabin watched curiously. That looked like the same coin that Edgar had used when they agreed Sabin could leave Figaro. The coin toss that had given Sabin the freedom to choose his future.

"How unusual," Setzer drawled slowly, and for a moment Celes was seized with panic, "A coin with identical sides."

Setzer didn't sound surprised, or angry. He sounded… amused.

Celes was nearly on the verge of spilling out apologies, explanations, anything that would deflect the gambler's wrath at having been cheated. But Celes steeled her nerves and spoke without a single quiver in her voice.

"I believe you've just been hustled, Mr. Gambler," she said confidently.

Setzer's face was blank for a moment longer, then the grin broke out. It was followed a moment later by a hearty laugh.

"What a scam!" he managed to say through his laughter, "How low can you get, my dear? I love it!"

Continuing to laugh, Setzer tossed the coin back to Edgar, but Sabin caught it before his brother and examined the coin closely.

"This coin," Sabin muttered distantly, then his ocean blue eyes honed in on Edgar, "Big brother…"

Edgar shrugged nervously. _Now_ he was in trouble.

"I have a few words for you later tonight," growled Sabin, "and you certainly won't find it pleasant."

Setzer allowed himself a laugh at their expense. "All right. I help the lot of you. I've got nothing to lose but my _life_! I'll add my life as a chip for your bet."

"Good," said Edgar firmly, "Now, we need to run down to the Opera House and get the rest of our gear. Then we can move for the Southern Continent."

Setzer nodded and waved a hand. A gentleman standing off in the shadows emerged, putting away a small crossbow.

"Cap'n?" said the man.

"Send three men down to the Opera House… quietly," ordered Setzer, "Have them gather the belongings of our illustrious new comrades. As soon as they return, set a course for Vector, full speed."

The man's eyes flicked between Setzer and the others. It was an evaluating gaze, questioning, thoughtful. After a few moments, he nodded reluctantly.

"Aye, skipper."

The man then turned on his heel and ascended to the upper decks. The party could barely hear him shouting orders.

"I need to get out of this dress," growled Celes.

Setzer gave her an enchanting smile. "Not to worry, my dear. I have many lovely gowns to please your tastes and figure in my most luxurious guestroom. Wait here, and I will have some of my men escort you to your staterooms. Please excuse me, but I must see to some matters with the _Blackjack_. I will see you again later."

With a flourish of his long coat, Setzer bowed and was gone before anyone could say another word.

As they stood around, Sabin led Edgar off to a side of the room, where they spoke in low voices, though Sabin was clearly angry and Edgar looked almost ashamed. Cyan and Gau stood over by one of the windows, marveling at the early night sky.

"Celes, why did you go through all that?" rasped Locke, "I was sure that I felt my heart stop beating. And you let me continue to worry even though you knew there was no danger of you marrying him!"

"Oh, and what does it matter to you whom I marry?" she asked with a superior look, "You think there's someone more suited to marrying me than Setzer?"

"To me?" he repeated, his mind seeming to be half a step behind.

"Yes. What does it matter to you?"

"Well… umm… that is… I mean to say…" Locke fumbled over his words, looking around for some kind of escape, and only then noticed the others were staring at him.

"My lady? My lords?"

They all turned to the voice of a young man, who bowed as their eyes fell on him.

"The captain has ordered that I show you to your staterooms. Please follow me."


	19. Chapter 17: Traversing the Sky

You never thought it would be possible and yet (drumroll please)… an update has arrived. Between weeks at the law firm, a semester of law classes, and months of writer's block, I have managed to put up another chapter. I know, shocking isn't it? I just want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed during my absence, especially to the three new reviewers, Valkyrie Celes, Phil, and Jeanes. Valkyrie, the story revolves around Sabin because I thought he was underused, he is my favorite character… and it's my story. Phil, no, I have not given up, but updates will come infrequently. Jeanes, thanks for your encouragement. Now, without further delay, the update. Thank you and enjoy.

* * *

Two hours later, Celes was finally halfway comfortable. After being shown where their rooms were, the first mate, a man Setzer called Janson, had shown them around the ship. Setzer had rejoined them partway through, and both of them had listened attentively as Locke and Edgar told them everything that had happened thus far in the group's journeys. Terra, the conquest of South Figaro and Doma, Zozo, Ramuh and the Espers, and the reason for their current voyage to Vector.

Celes grimaced as she though back on it. Setzer had not reacted to anything they had said. He had dismissed their claims of magic, until Locke had sent a bolt of lightning flying from his hand. It had been a power that he had learned from bearing the magicite of Ramuh. Then Setzer's only reaction had been to raise an eye.

Celes wondered if they had revealed too much to Setzer. The man was still an enigma, and she didn't know how much they could trust him. He'd already admitted to making a small fortune from obeying Imperial commands when issued to him, would he betray them to further his own wealth?

She sighed as she got ready for bed. This whole mess was making her paranoid.

_And these bloody clothes aren't helping_, she thought to herself.

Her stateroom had been the largest and most luxurious that they had been given, although Gau had refused a room, choosing to sleep up on deck. Celes had rummaged through the closet, finding all sorts of clothing… and not a single item was to her tastes. Setzer apparently liked his women in clothes that covered far too little, and with filmy, almost transparent materials and silks.

She had finally found a sleeping shift that would suffice. It still revealed too much of her breasts and only barely came below her waist, and the emerald material was thin enough that it hardly hid anything, but Celes couldn't dress in one of her normal bodysuits. Setzer had ordered the maids to wash their clothes and have them ready for the morning.

There came a soft knock at her door. Sighing, Celes picked up a sapphire blue silk robe she'd found. It wasn't much better than the sleeping shift she wore, but two layers of the clothing seemed to cover enough, and was no longer transparent.

Celes opened the door to see Setzer standing there, his hands held behind his back. He had removed his black longcoat, and it was now clear that his white shirt was expensive silk as well. His eyes widened slightly as they swept up and down her body, and he smiled interestedly.

"Well, my dear Celes, I'm glad you found some things among the wardrobe appealing," he said slowly, "Those clothes suit you, and the sapphire robe helps bring out the color of your eyes. Are you certain I can't persuade you to stay in an even more comfortable room? My room, perhaps?"

"Do you think of nothing besides your own pleasure?!" demanded Celes, as her cheeks gained a bit more color than usual. Though whether it was anger or embarrassment, she couldn't tell.

Setzer's smile seemed to falter for a moment and his eyes grew sad, but just as quickly the mask came back. Celes stared hard at the man. He seemed to be made of much more than just silk and playing cards.

"What could be better in this world than pleasure, my dear?" he asked, "Pain? Suffering? Struggle? I prefer to live in the moment, to let the winds take me where they will. I've seen what happens when a man tries to make fate submit to him, so now I go wherever fate wants me."

"Sometimes you don't have any choice," observed Celes, her mood instantly becoming more somber as she thought about her current mission.

Setzer noticed the solemn look in the beautiful blond's eyes and wondered what it meant. He had always considered himself superb at reading women, a skill that had served him well in his many dalliances across the world. In Celes, he thought he saw a woman confused as to her fate, a woman who wanted to be different than she was, but was afraid of what she might change into.

Deciding to draw his new beauty out of her melancholy, Setzer swept back his black coat, revealing a bouquet of beautiful spring flowers, many of which were native only to the areas around the town of Maranda. With a gallant bow, Setzer held the flowers forward for Celes.

"You know, my dear," he said slowly, "the Lady Maria is revered as one of the most beautiful women in the world. I have seen many women in many towns and cities, and I would agree with that assessment. However, I will stand before anyone in this world and loudly declare you are even lovelier than she."

Celes blushed, and this time she couldn't even tell herself that it was out of anger.

_Locke has never been this romantic_, she thought wistfully, then decided not to let Locke back into her thoughts. He had plenty of chances. Celes couldn't help it if he ignored her. He was making up for past mistakes, he was doing this for Rachel.

_If he wants to do this for someone else, then fine_, she decided, _I don't have to wait around for him._

"Thank you for the flowers," she said, taking the bouquet from Setzer and stepping back to allow him into the room. Celes swallowed nervously. She hoped she knew what she was doing.

But Setzer seemed to understand, and kept a respectable distance. Close enough that Celes still felt a little flushed, but not close enough to be inappropriate.

"I greatly regret that my dealings with the Empire have never given us the opportunity to cross paths before," he said, shaking his head regretfully, "The next time I make a deal with Emperor Gestahl, I will have to look deeper into the ranks of his generals."

"Did you do much for the Emperor?" asked Celes, genuinely curious now as she put the flowers in a ceramic vase. It looked of Figaran make, she thought, and quite expensive.

"Not really," replied Setzer with a shrug, "I would shuttle some troops for the Emperor, sometimes one of his generals, especially Leo. The Emperor himself once deigned to use the _Blackjack_ as a personal transport to a dinner hosted by Owzer in Jidoor. I would overlook the Empire's methods and they would overlook my more… _questionable_… dealings. It was a perfect match. I was an ace in their hand, but my relationship with the Empire was always the trump card I held on to."

"There's no reason for you to continue to do their dirty work," Celes insisted, her voice firm, and her posture, Setzer noted, was far less hesitant. Now she looked as though she was once again an Imperial General and he was a soldier she was commanding. If anything, Setzer thought she was even more beautiful right now than she'd been in her opera gown.

"The Empire will take advantage of you the first moment they feel it is in their best interests. Gestahl will never openly admit to utilizing the services of an independent such as yourself. You'll be named a traitor to the Empire and everything you have will be confiscated. If you manage to escape you'll find yourself hunted by Imperial agents for the rest of your life. Choose right, Setzer, otherwise you'll find yourself less independent and more of a pawn than you could ever imagine."

Celes stood still looking at the gambler for a moment, breathing heavily, still feeling the intensity of her emotions. Setzer seemed to be looking at her with a different light in his eyes. Then he showed just the hint of a smile.

"Masterful warrior, fearless general, stunningly beautiful opera singer, and now political advisor?" he said with a slight chuckle, "Is there anything you _can't_ do?"

Celes bristled at the gambler's teasing tone. Just when she thought there was more to him, he shuts down and reverts to what is obviously his facade.

"I'm just warning you," she said icily, "Gestahl will betray you the instant it benefits him. I don't think even _you_ would bet against that?"

Setzer nodded, smirking slightly. "Perhaps you're right. But then again, can we truly trust anyone in this world. Even those closest to you can abandon you. Dealing with another person in any sort of relationship is a gamble. But I think some relationships are worth putting my cards on the table for."

Celes swallowed nervously again, dropping her eyes from Setzer's blue-gray gaze as he looked deeply at her. There were many things she found attractive in this man, and that thought alone made her heart race. Not to mention whatever connections she had with Locke and that knuckle-dragger Sabin. The thought of the other two men who had become close to her did nothing to help slow her heart from beating as fast as a chocobo.

"Yes," she whispered, "It's possible you could lose everything. Everything that you were, that you had expected, even everything you had ever dreamed of. But you could also gain something more precious than you could possibly imagine. I have faith in my friends… my friends."

Celes repeated those last words almost to herself. She couldn't remember ever having considered anyone a friend before. She had the Emperor, who was her life, her peers in Generals Kefka and Leo, and the soldiers who obeyed her. But none of them could ever have been considered a friend.

She forced herself to go on. "I have faith that my friendship with the others can heal me of all the horrors I have committed. Perhaps together we can right some of those wrongs. Perhaps, one day, scars on my heart from those deeds might even be healed."

Setzer stepped forward and slowly, gently reached out and stroked her cheek. It was such a light, tender touch that Celes didn't even think of protesting. The gambler's eyes held sympathy, understanding and kindness that she'd never expected to see from him.

"Your words touch my heart, my dear Celes," he said softly, "I too, once lost everything I held dear. In one fell swoop it was all taken from me. Perhaps we might be able to heal together."

They stood like that for a long time afterwards, Setzer gently holding Celes' cheek, softly stroking with his thumb. Both gazed into each other's eyes the entire time. After some indeterminable time Setzer leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on Celes' cheek. Without a word he turned around and left the room, leaving Celes standing alone, her mind filled with questions about where her life was taking her.

* * *

The deck of the _Blackjack_ was nearly empty by this point. One man stood by the wheel, keeping them on course. Two other crewmen continuously circled the edge of the ship, keeping a sharp lookout. Every so often, one of them would stop by the pilot and check on the form of the young boy curled up beneath a few blankets. Sometimes one of them would adjust the blankets that lay over young Gau, a few of the men having seemed to "adopt" the boy already.

A few more crewmen would often appear on the deck, lighting up pipes before returning to bed or their duties. They would chat with each other for a few moments, gossiping about their new passengers.

None of them approached the front of the airship. Word had spread quickly. There was an Ironhand aboard. Laugh and joke as they would in front of the world's wealthiest merchants and nobility, they didn't dare do so now. They knew what they could say in front of any merchant or noble, from any kingdom. But an Ironhand? Who knew what he would tolerate? Tales of the power of the Blitz and the Ironhands who wielded that power still terrified most men. As far as they were concerned, the legendary Ironhand Blitzes were one step short of magic itself.

Sabin sat at the front of the ship, legs folded underneath himself, hands gently clasped in his lap. He was deep into his meditation now. He was finished thrashing Edgar over that bloody coin, at least for tonight. Sabin knew now that everything he was, everything he had become, was due to the love of his older brother. Sabin swore never to let himself forget that.

Clearing his mind of all extraneous thought, Sabin delved deep within himself, finding that part of his spirit that connected him to the lifestream, and he opened himself to the wonders of the world. Nature, peaceful and gentle as gentle winds blow across open plains. Nature, red in tooth and claw as his spirit bonds with a pack of wolves. Life was both of these, and so much more that Sabin could never have described the experience to his compatriots if he'd tried.

Pain and despair flashed through the emptiness, a sense of foreboding touched every aspect of the lifestream. Life found Sabin's powerful spirit, and he could feel life crying out for relief. A distant sense of anger made itself known. Sabin knew it was his own feelings, anger at the pain men bring with them without knowing and without caring.

As he stretched out with his senses, Sabin could feel a wave of sorrow and sympathy stretch out to him. He could see the cold, dark stain of hate and evil on his own spirit. The power of the life seemed to reach out to him, trying to calm and soothe that knot of darkness, as Sabin sent feelings of his own compassion and gratitude into the void.

In this place, in this mentality, it would have been impossible to describe where Sabin ended and the endless wonders of life began. It was a power that had driven men mad in the past, but Sabin existed here harmoniously with this power.

Through the lifestream, Sabin could feel nature, he could hear the roars of predators, the howling of winds, the cries of newborn babes, and the quiet sighs of death. Each was unique, and he treasured each and every one, for they were all a part of life. They were all equal.

Suddenly, through this harmony came piercing screams. A woman in great pain. Sabin instinctively knew he was feeling Terra's pain and fear, as Ramuh had described in Zozo. He tried to send his own feelings through the lifestream, as nature had done for him, but to no avail. Terra was not a part of the lifestream like he was, even as her power echoed through him. Together, he and nature wept for her pain.

Conscious thought intruded on the lifestream, and Sabin identified the sound of lightly plated boots approaching. With an effort, Sabin withdrew from his meditation, knowing as he did so who it was. Only one person of their group would have the nerve to approach.

"Art the legends of thy Ironhand Blitzes true?" asked Cyan, after noticing that Sabin had become aware of him, "Canst thou truly hear the planet speak to thee?"

Sabin slowly rose to his feet and approached the railing, looking out into the night. "Sometimes. But it is nature, the power of life itself that predominates. People think our connection to the lifestream means the world has… intelligence, or a will of its own. It doesn't. But there is no denying that life has a strength, a power, a mystery all of its own. It's something that mere mortals like myself can't hope to understand. All a person can do is accept it, and surrender to a power greater than they could ever hope to attain."

Cyan came up next to him, leaning over the railing. Both men were silent for several long minutes.

"Thou art very like thy Master Duncan," said the elder knight quietly, "He too downplayed the power at thine command."

Sabin was surprised enough that it showed. Cyan _knew_ Master Duncan? When had that ever happened? Master Duncan had never spoken much about his life before forming his school and beginning to teach students, but surely he would have mentioned the Knight-Retainer of Doma!

Cyan nodded slowly. "Aye, I didst meet thy Master. Twice, in truth. The first time, I was just a boy whose life was saved by Master Duncan, when he doth be no older than thee." Cyan spoke quietly, almost reverently, and Sabin had to wonder what deeds Master Duncan had done in his youth that he never spoke of to anyone. "I met thy Master once more, at the end of thou foul Urthmen Wars, after we didst save Vector from their hordes. Master Duncan attended the funeral of my lord, King Randal, as did Gestahl and General Banon."

Cyan became silent again, his eyes gaining a distant look. Sabin could not imagine the memories that must have been passing through his friend's mind, memories of the Urthmen Wars, the three greatest heroes since perhaps the War of the Magi, and the death of his liege lord.

Sabin knew he would never equal Duncan's legend, there would never again be another Duncan Ironhand. Slowly, Sabin turned to go to his room for some sleep, but before he took a step, Cyan grabbed his upper arm. The former Knight-Retainer of Doma gazed into the eyes of the heir of Ironhand.

"Sir Sabin," said Cyan somberly, "if thou doest become _half_ the man thy master was, then thou shalt be a very great hero. One worthy of legends in thine own right."

* * *

The _Blackjack_ landed outside of Vector an hour before dawn. The freedom fighters began to awaken to the morning light and make their way out on deck. Edgar yawned and blinked blearily at the sight of his younger brother already well into his training; spinning, flipping through the air, throwing punches and kicks, doing push-ups and stretching exercises. Edgar shook his head.

"Bloody fool," he muttered as he walked past Locke, whose mouth was wide open in a yawn.

"Who? Me?" asked the young rogue.

Edgar chuckled quietly as he shook his head. Gau came up to the two of them, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Why all noisy? Gau sleepy," commended the boy, then a loud rumbling came from his belly, "Gau hungry, too."

Setzer and Celes appeared together at the same moment, and the gambler laughed quietly. "Well now, my boy, we certainly can't have that. All of you should join me in my private dining hall. Breakfast should be ready momentarily. Although," he said, pausing dramatically and turning to Celes, "you my dear, look good enough to eat all on your own."

Celes glared at the gambler's retreating back, watching his shoulders shake with laughter. Locke strode up and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Come on sweetheart," he said, "you can stick your sword in his back after he gets us outta here."

Celes turned to Locke, and her throat thickened at his careless grin. With an effort, she put a weak smile on her face and nodded. Edgar watched the two of them disappear back into the ship, unaware of Cyan or his brother coming up behind him.

"Doest thou think they even realize thine feelings for each other?" asked Cyan, smirking at where Locke and Celes had gone.

"Doubtful," replied Sabin with a laugh, "Locke's too thick-headed and Celes is too stubborn. They'll end up killing each other before they admit their feelings."

Edgar and Gau shared a laugh with the other two, before they too followed the others back into the ship.

Setzer's private dining hall was appropriately ostentatious without being gaudy, decorated in deep blues with skillfully placed browns and greens, giving one the feeling of either looking up at a noonday sky or sitting on a beach looking over the ocean. Tapestries of warm beaches, forests, and even stylized images of towns and cities across the world added to the sensation. Gold sconces and a crystal chandelier completed the ensemble.

Food was brought out of the kitchen by servants in Setzer's private livery, bearing platters of food from across the world. Fruits from the orchards near Maranda, Figaran breads, chocobo eggs, Jidooran wines and cheeses, and other delicacies that would have cost a fortune in the best inns and restaurants in the world.

"It will be far too dangerous to bring the _Blackjack_ any closer to Vector than we already are," Setzer was telling the others a while later, "I've done my part so far and brought you here, but I won't risk my ship or my crew to your venture. I'll keep the _Blackjack_ anchored here for a time, letting the engines cool down while you're doing your deeds. That way we'll be here waiting for your daring escape with Imperial soldiers hot on your heels."

"Let us hope that thy vision doest not come to pass," said Cyan, "Recklessness doest be our enemy in a quest fraught with peril."

The experienced knight looked over at Locke and Edgar, both of whom tended to have a flair for the dramatic. Both of the younger men got his message loud and clear. There would be no spectacular heroics here.

"I don't think we really need to worry," Locke said easily, casually leaning back in his chair, "This is Celes' home turf, she knows this place like the back of her hand."

"The greatest dangers are often those that are closest to home," Sabin said, quoting one of Master Duncan's favorite maxims, after one of the students had gotten arrogant in their mountain home and had nearly fallen to his death, "We can't dare become overconfident. Caution and secrecy are our weapons now."

Setzer smirked at them and clapped his hands once. "Well one thing that is definitely not helping your stealth is your choice of clothing," he told them.

A moment later, two more servants entered the room carrying two racks of clothing. The shirts, pants and cloaks were in dull gray, brown, and black. A few of them had splashes of color; a strip of red down the legs of a pair of pants, a pattern of blue diamond stitching on a shirt, and so forth.

"Clothing in Vector tends to be simple and drab," explained Setzer, "With all of the city's factories belching smoke and soot, the people have adapted to the fact that their clothes get smudged and dirty by simply ignoring color and style. Only the nobility or the wealthy who can afford personal tailors wear clothes with more colors or in more stylish cuts. Now you'll blend in and avoid sticking out like the Northerners you are. Just keep your voices down and try to avoid talking if you can. None of you, except for Celes, has any trace of a Southern accent. Soldiers will pick you out in a heartbeat."

The others were silent as they slipped shirts and cloaks over their own clothes. Each one was silently contemplating the danger that they were about to go into, the complete foolhardiness of walking into the lion's den.

Locke finally couldn't take the silence anymore. "Well, we're not accomplishing anything by just standing around here. We'll be fine. We're the most wanted people in all of the Empire. Who would think we'd be stupid enough to walk right into Vector?"

Several of the others chuckled weakly. Edgar then walked up to Setzer and held out his hand.

"I want to thank you for all your help, Setzer," he told the gambler, "You didn't really have to help us, but you did. I just wanted to thank you now in case we all die."

Sabin burst out laughing. Everyone turned to look at him as though he were mad. He shook his head. "Sorry. Just thinking. Death smiles at every man," he said, and the others knew he was quoting his master again, "the only thing men can do is smile back."

"Let's go," said Celes sharply, "Let's get this over with."

With their minds focused and their courage set, the six of them marched forward into the heart of darkness.


	20. Chapter 18: Into the Lion's Den

Well, I'm not dead. It's taken forever, major cases of writer's block, working full-time, evening classes, and what little social life I have left have conspired to prevent me from providing an update in months. Thank you to everyone who has recently provided reviews, they helped kick me out of the slump and get this chapter out. Hopefully if I continue to get reviews on a regular basis I can keep myself out of further slumps. Once again, I appreciate everything from all of you. Thank you, and enjoy.

* * *

"They don't seem all that happy to be moving into the city," commented Locke with a nervous chuckle, covertly glancing at the people around them.

The group had run into a band of peasants, wearing drab grays and browns, with three wagons loaded with personal belongings. The wagons were each being pulled along by a pair of lizard-like creatures, shorter than horses but with a more massive build in the shoulders. Celes had identified them as gobruks, normally a wild creature found throughout the Agroch Mountains that surrounded Vector. However, those who found young gobruks learned that they were surprisingly easy to train and use as beasts of burden.

The peasants themselves had barely noticed the addition of the heroes to their marching party, though a few shook their heads sadly. None of the group spoke with the peasants, all of them too worried to distinguish themselves any more than they obviously did already.

Locke's nervous humor was to cover his fear. They were the first Returner strike team to get this close to the Iron Fortress. He knew that Banon had spies and maybe even a saboteur somewhere in the city, but no organized unit. Each spy was here individually and knew nothing about any others. But the potential for a catastrophe was greater here than anywhere to the north.

"They art leaving the home they knew and loved," replied Cyan quietly, knowing that his Doman accent and use of the Elder tongue would mark them instantly as outsiders, "There doest be nothing happy in such a farewell."

"But they obviously chose this," protested Locke, "otherwise why…"

"They didn't choose it," said Sabin quietly. He walked with one hand on Gau's shoulder, keeping the boy close to the rest of them, otherwise Gau's natural curiosity might have given them away.

Locke was confused. How could he know that?

"Their homes were destroyed," added Edgar, picking up the same clues as his brother, "Look, there's no furniture, no dishware, and only a few personal items for each person. They left their homes with only what they could grab in an instant."

"Gestahl is obsessed with having a united Empire," explained Celes, "Those who don't wish to live in the cities are persuaded, one way or another, to do so. The continent used to be littered with dozens… hundreds of small villages and settlements. Each was independent. Each one answered only to the leaders of their own village. No grand luxuries, but they also had fewer worries."

Celes took a deep breath. She couldn't believe how much it hurt to tell the truth about this. "But during and after the Urthmen War, people flocked to the Iron Fortress. Now, Gestahl doesn't want to leave even the possibility of another city growing without his direct supervision. If theirs was not a sanctioned settlement, then Imperial troops probably razed it to the ground, with an ultimatum for the people to move to Vector proper."

Locke wanted to spit, wanted to curse, but controlled himself on both counts. It was one more example of Gestahl's madness, a madness that he had dedicated his life to eradicating.

"These people will be fine," said Sabin, in that quiet, soft tone that the others had come to recognize when he was speaking meditatively, "Their hearts have received a blow with the loss of their home, but they are strong. They will survive, and they will succeed."

Gau suddenly began to growl. "Waroo, waroo," he rasped, "riders come."

The others loosened weapons and readied their weapon arms before the five riders were in view for their eyes.

Sabin's constantly roving gaze fell upon the eldest of the peasants, a gray-haired woman whose bony hands had held onto three young children with fierce strength. His eyes met with hers, and he slowly nodded once. Her face showed indecision for a moment, then firmed. And she returned his nod.

Within moments, the riders could be identified as a group of Imperial soldiers riding chocobos whose feathers were more gray than anything else. The rider at the front wore the insignia of a captain in the Imperial Army. He arrogantly looked down his nose at the assembled villagers.

"Who is your leader here?" he demanded.

"I am," said the old woman, "Akanah of Hailieu village. We were ordered to make our way to Vector by your… comrades."

The captain snickered. "I hope they taught the lot of you a lesson. Independence leads to chaos, and that will bring about the downfall of the world yet again. Learn this lesson; there is strength only in unity. Now, we're here to collect the tax for entrance into the city."

"Tax?" cried Akanah incredulously, "Tax? First we are forcibly removed from our homes and commanded to go to Vector on pain of death, and now we are expected to pay a tax to enter? You have already taken most of what we have. Leave us alone with all that we could save."

The captain's mouth twisted into a cruel snarl, and his hand rested on his sword hilt. "Watch your tongue, old hag. How do you expect Emperor Gestahl to run the Empire and bring peace to the world without taxes? Either take the easy route and hand over your belongings, or…"

He nodded at the other soldiers, who drew weapons and looked over the peasants.

"Or there is that other way."

The old woman spat.

Without a moment's hesitation, the captain swung at Akanah's head, but she fell backwards, the blade missing by inches. The captain looked again, and realized that a broad-shouldered young man had pulled her back just in time. He sneered, ready to teach this boy a lesson he wouldn't forget.

The blond man whispered something in the old woman's ear, and she nodded with a grimace.

"You win, pig!" she growled at the captain, "Give them what they want. We have nothing worth dying for. They have killed enough of us already."

The captain laughed and motioned his men forward. Ten minutes later, they were still laughing at their own power and authority as they left with nearly half of what the peasants had brought along with them. They had left the carts and the gobruks at least, and Sabin began pulling the stubborn beasts to get them moving again.

"Swine!" spat Cyan as they began walking along with the peasants.

Celes swallowed, knowing that she very easily could have been in command of such a patrol. Worse, she knew that in days past she might have slaughtered the entire group of peasants, even after they'd agreed to give their belongings. She was glad Sabin had made the old woman see sense. She looked over at the leading cart with the old woman, who had leaned down and was speaking quietly with Sabin. She couldn't hear them, but was dying to know what they were talking about.

"We should have taught them a lesson," muttered Locke.

"And then what?" asked Edgar, "Blown our cover? Endangered these people's lives? We can't do more than that, remember we're supposed to be here in secret."

Locke grumbled but didn't say any more than that as they continued walking. An hour later their group crested a large hill, and there, not five miles further on, was the city of Vector, nestled down near the base of the Agroch Mountains. The massive structure that the rest of the world knew as the Iron Fortress was the centerpiece of the city of Vector, home of Emperor Gestahl and headquarters of the Imperial campaign for world domination, or unity as Gestahl would have termed it.

Cyan couldn't help himself, he looked to the east of the city, to a set of tall, craggy hills. Vivid memories flashed through his mind, as clear as the day he had experienced them. The walls of Vector burning, the stench of the dead, the earth churned and running red with blood, and most painful of all, Cyan himself on his knees, cradling the lifeless body of King Randal, while Master Duncan, Lord Gestahl, and General Banon offered him what sympathy they could.

"You okay, Cyan?" asked Gau, pulling gently at the leg of his trousers.

Cyan sniffed and wiped at what might have been a tear, then looked down at the boy and smiled.

"Yes, Sir Gau. I am well," he said.

"Wow, look at that," murmured Locke, "The land here is so… so… _alive_. Just that little section around the city…"

Indeed, life around the city looked healthier than it had any right to. Perhaps a half-mile around the city was brown and barren, somewhat closer to a mile directly to the city's south. Above the city was a grayish-brown haze of smoke and pollution from the Imperial factories that supplied the Imperial war machine. According to Celes, within the city itself, true healthy sunlight was a very rare thing.

But past this radius, the lands were green and lush. To the west, a healthy forest grew strong, and to the south and west the southern grasses grew tall and thick, nearly to a grown man's thigh. Animals ran through the tall grasses and birds flew overhead, seemingly oblivious to the urban monstrosity nearby.

"It's the work of the Urthmen," commented Celes.

"The Urthmen?" echoed Locke, "But I heard they were nearly mindless creatures of destruction. They tore down anything that stood in their way."

"All things made by men," commented Cyan, "But for all things natural, for the land itself, the presence of thou Urthmen didst seem to make the land even more bountiful. They seemed to… _heal_ the land."

"The Urthmen seemed to take particular interest in Vector," explained Celes, "but no one knows why. Just 50 years, the great city of Vector was then just a small, quiet little town. One of a thousand others just like it on the southern continent, the people concerned only with their farms and harvesting from the forests and mountains. Gestahl inherited his noble title and these lands when his father passed away, and for several years after that, nothing changed.

"But when the first signs of the Urthmen were discovered, Gestahl began making preparations, using much of his family's wealth, some of it money that had been saved for more than five generations, begin fortifying Vector. He built the foundation of what is now the Iron Fortress, and hired mercenaries to train his guards and people, turning them into professional soldiers to guard the newly-built gates and battlements. Despite the carnage the Urthmen wreaked on the city during the height of the war, the lands around the city seemed to come alive under the Urthmen."

"I still can't imagine how Vector managed to survive," commented Locke.

"No one ever said Gestahl was stupid," replied Edgar, turning back from having exchanged smiles with a very pretty peasant girl, "He had a brilliant strategic mind, always thinking four moves ahead and planning for a potential catastrophic failure with each move. After his forces rescued Cid Highwind, a brilliant scientist from Albrook, they were able to combine his genius with the work of the diligent Vectorans to triple the size and defenses of the Iron Fortress."

"And Gestahl had his allies," put in Celes, "General Banon and Master Duncan were great friends with Gestahl. So when the Urthmen began their final assaults against the Iron Fortress, Vector's forces were overwhelmed and had to give ground constantly. Gestahl would have been defeated, he simply couldn't match the Urthmen. But then, once again out of nowhere, General Banon and Master Duncan appeared, bringing with them the armies of Figaro and Doma. Together, the forced the Urthmen to a standstill."

She fell silent for several moments, staring at the growing fortress. Her blue eyes were as cold as ice and her face was set in a stony mask. Whatever thoughts were passing through her mind were not about to be shared with anyone.

"I do remember those days most foul," said Cyan in a low voice.

"You remember?" gasped Edgar, "Wha… how? Because you were here?!"

Cyan's chin rose and his eyes shone with pride. "I remember thou day when General Banon didst stand in the Great Hall of Doma and convinced King Randal to aid thine friend. And so the knights of Doma marched to the defense of Vector. Thou army of Figaro had followed King Andris and Master Duncan, coming in from the west and cutting a swath through the hordes of Urthmen, taking the gates of Vector. King Randal and I led our knights in from the east, over those yonder hills."

He pointed off to the right, to a rise of craggy hills.

"Even as we didst crest the hills, behind us came reinforcements of thee Urthmen. King Randal ordered me to lead my knights to the city and hold the gates against all enemies, while thee…" Cyan swallowed hard. "Whilst thee held off the reinforcements. Knights perished quickly, as did most against the power of thou Urthmen. Almost single-handedly didst King Randal hold off the Urthmen, saving Vector from certain doom."

"_Almost_ single-handedly?" asked Locke.

Pride almost fiercer than when he spoke of his former king shone in Cyan's eyes, and his mouth curled into a proud and fierce smile. "One warrior didst join my king. Thee stood on the battlements, and saw yonder the knights begin to fall. Alone he fought through the entire horde of Urthmen, to stand at my king's side against thou onslaught. One who never faltered in defending others, be they friend or stranger. Master Duncan Ironhand."

Sabin stopped in his tracks ahead of the group and spun around to stare at Cyan. Edgar couldn't imagine how his little brother could have heard, but the astonishment on Sabin's face was obvious. And priceless. It wasn't often that his little brother was caught off-guard so this was a moment to treasure.

They were silent for several moments before Celes took up the thread of explaining the city again.

"Since the Urthmen War, the city has grown several times its size. Despite the pollution from the factories producing war materiel, only the lands immediately surrounding the city have become barren, but that area is slowly growing. The Iron Fortress' defenses have been augmented with the magic that Gestahl has acquired. The Magitek Research Facility is a later addition to the east wing of the fortress. Because of the mountains around the city and prevailing winds to the south, it is the south side of Vector that is the most heavily polluted, and is therefore the poorest. The only safe areas in the south side are the main trade avenues, which are continually patrolled by Imperial troops."

"Great," muttered Locke, "out of the boiling pot, into the roasting pan."

* * *

There was a grimness to the city of Vector that the young heroes had never seen in any of the other cities they had visited. The guards at the main gate into the city had been rowdy and hostile, but they expected that. They stuck with Akanah and the peasants along the main avenue for a while. The people around though had a… slackness. It was difficult to describe. Like they were apathetic to everything that was happening around them. Few them glanced as the party, as though similar groups of refugees entering the city were no strange thing.

The sky above their heads was little more than a haze of sickly brown smoke, and there was a strange scent to the air. Every city had its own particular odor, they knew, a characteristic that was impossible not to compare with others. Vector's scent was not overpoweringly disgusting, but it created a slightly queasy feeling in the pit of their stomachs.

Examples of the fabulous technology available to Vector were everywhere, technology that was equaled only by Figaro. Yet unlike Figaro, which kept its technological advances beneath the surface in order to maintain its sense of the classic, Vector was filled with gear-worked machinery, wind-powered mills and other strange advanced technology out in plain sight.

Ahead of them was a wide avenue that led right to the Iron Fortress, looming above their heads, while cross-roads led off into the rest of the city. As they eyed the fortress, gathering their nerves, Akanah came up to Sabin.

"This is where I leave you and your friends, dear boy," she said kindly, "I hope the Ancients bless your quest, whatever they decree your fate to be."

"You are a fine woman, Akanah," replied Sabin, taking her hands in his own for a moment, "Protect these people, and do not let your pride get the better of you. Better days are ahead, I promise you. Edgar?"

Edgar came up next to his little brother, having been thinking along the same lines. Without hesitation he pushed a small belt pouch into Akanah's hands.

"You lost too much with us unable to do anything for you," said Edgar, "Please take this small token to help you and your people set up a new life. You have been more help than you can imagine."

Akanah looked inside the pouch and gasped. It was filled nearly to overflowing with gold coins. Edgar had exchanged the Figaran coinage they'd been carrying for Imperial coin. Despite the fact that these two main currencies were accepted on an equal basis in both the north and south, they'd considered it better not to mark themselves out any more than necessary.

"I cannot take this," she said firmly, pushing it back towards Edgar, who stepped back quickly, "We have done nothing to earn this."

"You have, Akanah," Sabin told her softly, "You kept silent on the fact that we are foreigners when you could have pointed us out long before now. You probably would have received a larger award than this. You stood up for your people against a bully. If more people had your courage, the tyrrany of the Empire would not have grown as it has. Live free and at peace with what we can give you."

"Akanah," said Edgar, jumping in, "there is enough there to set your people up comfortably for a while. If you cannot live here, save some and come to Figaro. I will welcome you."

The old woman swallowed hard, looking at the money, and then back at the two brothers. She nodded slowly.

"You are great men, and you have great people for companions," she told them, "Truly, you are favored by the Ancients. Go as you will, we shall make a home here, however different it is from the home we knew. If ever you should need me or my people, know that aid will always be freely given. Ancients be with you."

Sabin smiled. "And with you, Akanah. Honor and temperance."

The two brothers watched her walk away, both wishing they could have done more for Akanah and her people. It was in their blood, for the royalty of Figaro had always been considered by their peers to have hearts too big for kings. Such detractors, of course, had never been able to equal the power and wealth of Figaro.

* * *

"I've been watching that bloody entrance all morning," complained Locke.

The six of them were eating a small lunch of cold sandwiches and juice from some southern fruit. After parting with Akanah, they had split into teams to look for any possible way into the research facility. Locke and Gau had watched the main entrance, while the others found no other way in.

"The guards there are Dragonstorm troops," he explained, "the elite troops hand-picked by Emperor Gestahl. They're alert and unforgiving. We can't go in the front door, it's just not gonna happen."

"What if the guards weren't there?" asked Sabin, an intense look in his eye.

"Don't flaming be absurd!" Locke shot back, "The main entrance is in full view of the street and there's a small common building for troops as they come back from their patrols of the city so they can rest and relax. Even _you're_ not fast enough to take out those guards, get us inside and to the Espers before the whole bloody Imperial Army comes down on us!"

"I think he meant, what if the guards were distracted," commented Celes softly, but a smirk pulling at her features.

Gau almost bubbled with glee. "Waroo! Climb metal trees, many vines over bad guys' heads!"

They all stared at the boy for a moment, not understanding.

Edgar suddenly snapped his fingers. "The support struts and the girders! Can we climb those and sneak over the heads of the guards?"

Locke thought for a moment, chewing slowly on his sandwich. "You know, that just might work. But… no," he sighed, "the guards would have to be staring at the ground to miss us. Or they'd have to be away from the entrance. Luckily, the girders are mostly concealed from the rest of the troops on break."

"But who wouldst dare distract thou guards whilst we entered?" wondered Cyan.

Locke's face suddenly broke into a smile, then he pulled out a scrap of paper and began scribbling something. "Celes? Do you think you can find this address?"

She took the paper from Locke, looked it over once and nodded once. "Yes," she said very slowly, "but why?"

"Just… trust me."

Twenty minutes later, Celes had led them to a small house to the southwest. Locke went up to the door and knocked twice. The door opened a crack.

"Who's there?"

"Just some peaceful travelers looking for blue skies and a dangerous ride," replied Locke.

"Blue skies hurt my eyes."

"You should get out of the smoke, bad for your health," Locke returned.

"For some that's a good thing."

The door opened quickly, revealing a short, dark-haired man with deep-set eyes. The man quickly waved them inside and then looked around to see if anyone had seen them enter.

"Who the bloody hell are you?!" demanded the man as soon as he had the door closed. His home was a small, quaint affair. They were in his sitting room, a kitchen behind it, and to the right were a set of stairs.

"Locke Cole, out of Mt. Kolts," replied the young rogue, "this is King Edgar of Figaro, Sabin Ironhand, Sir Cyan Garamonde, General Celes and Gau. Banon sent us."

They all stared at Locke as though he'd gone mad. What was he doing? He was giving them away to a stranger?!

Sabin looked at Locke strangely for an entirely different reason. Locke had introduced him as Sabin Ironhand. Why? Did he think shock value would work on this man? Or did Locke think of him not as Edgar's brother and Prince of Figaro, but as a mountain yokel who thought too much on matters of philosophy and spirituality? Sabin shook his head. He would have to ask Locke about it when they were safely away from the city.

The man bowed hurriedly to Edgar and then spoke. "Reggan Polonar. I've been waiting for years for people like you. Don't worry, I'm not about to tell anyone you're Returners. If you haven't figured it out already, I'm a sleeper. Banon sent me here over five years ago. I've sometimes wondered if my monthly reports ever make it to him."

"They make it," reported Locke, "and he reads each one himself. But we need your help."

"If I can help you at all, I will. But if this isn't an assault on the Iron Fortress and Gestahl himself, I won't jeopardize my cover."

"We wouldn't want you to," answered Edgar, "but we need to get into the Magitek Research Facility."

Reggan flinched. "You of course would ask for one of the only places I can't get you into on my own. No one who works in the research facility associates with others. I don't have any contacts in there."

"Bloody Ancients!" cursed Locke, "I can't believe we've made it right into the heart of Vector only to fail now."

"Hang on just a minute, kid," said Reggan with a grin, "I said I couldn't get you in there myself. However, there's a guy I know, name of Barret. Older gent, lived here when Vector was still a farming community. Doesn't like what Gestahl has done with the town, so he's a bit of a Returner sympathizer, not that he'd ever admit it, since he still considers himself a man loyal to Gestahl's father. He's a bit of a busybody, always in someone else's business. Likes to hang out near the research facility because it's one of the few places he doesn't have a contact in either."

Locke nodded slowly. "I thought I saw a guy watching the entrance, but I thought it was just my imagination."

"Well just be careful going into a place like that," warned Reggan, "I've heard stories that magic can be given to ordinary people, and that every guard in that place can fry a person with a thought. That Cid Highwind is a bloody genius, if you ask me."

"Professor Cid?" cried Celes, "Have you seen him? Is he all right?"

Reggan shrugged. "Yeah, he's fine. As far as I know."

"Who be Cid?" asked Gau.

"He's Gestahl's top scientist," answered Celes, "he was rescued by Vectoran soldiers a few years before the Urthmen War broke out, and he was the brains behind the advanced defenses of the Iron Fortress. He was the one who was able to develop and perfect the process of infusing magic power into people, creating Magitek Knights. He… he's the closest thing I had to family, even as the Emperor was my life."

"Wait a moment," said Sabin, "you said Cid developed and perfected the process of producing Magitek Knights. Who else was there before you?"

"Most subjects died," explained Celes, "As far as I know, there are only two Magitek Knights who have survived both the infusion process and the battles in the years since. Kefka and myself."

"General Kefka was the first, from what I've learned," explained Reggan, "but the process still wasn't properly understood at that time. He was given a lot more power than most, but at the same time it took a terrible toll on his mind."

"Well that explains a few things," commented Edgar, thinking back to Kefka's superhuman strength that he'd displayed as well as his mad, cackling laughter when he had attacked Figaro and boasted about killing everyone and burning the castle to the ground.

"Sirs, we must not delay," said Cyan, "we must find this Sir Barret as soon as we can. Time could mean the difference between victory and thine defeat."

"Thanks, Reggan," said Locke, shaking the man's hand, "I'll be sure to let Banon know what miserable conditions you have to work in."

"Do that," replied Reggan seriously, and then a second later he grinned, "and tell him that I need a raise."

The trip back to the industrial yards around the Magitek Research Facility, and indeed most of the Iron Fortress, was a quick 20 minute walk, now that they knew where they were going. Like the rest of the people in Vector, they kept their heads down and tried not to watch Imperial patrols as they walked past.

When they returned to the research facility, Gau and Sabin's keen eyes found the man instantly.

"There," they said at once, pointing.

"You see good, Mr. Thou," said Gau, smiling happily up at Sabin.

"My name is _not_ Mr. Thou!" growled the martial arts master.

"Sir Locke, you and King Edgar approach thee," said Cyan, his mind already planning tactics in case they needed to retreat, "Lady Celes, approach from the left, Sir Gau, from the right. Sir Sabin, thou and I shalt remain here if danger arises."

Sabin nodded his assent, and the others began to move. The four who approached the man slid around crates and stacks of equipment as quietly as they could, although there was still a decent amount of background noise from the crowds on the streets only half a block away. Soon enough, Locke and Edgar came up to the man. They took a look around, Celes' head came up and she nodded once, and Gau gave a feral grin when they saw him.

Locke then turned to look at Edgar.

"Let's hope it's him," whispered the Figaran king.

"Sir!" Locke called in a loud whisper, "Sir!"

The old man turned, looking around, until his eyes fell on the two young men. His brow furrowed in confusion, but a moment later he apparently made up his mind about something and came over to them.

"Who the bloody heck are you?" asked the man fiercely. He was older than Locke or Edgar had suspected, probably ten or fifteen years older than Gestahl. His hair, having turned white long ago, was now just few thin wisps. His clothes were the same dull gray and brown as most of the rest of the city, with no other colors. Obviously he was a poor man. Even those of middling income had seemed to have enough to add a dash of color to their clothing.

"You Barret?" asked Locke, to which the man nodded, "Reggan sent us. He told us you might be able to help us."

"Returners?" asked Barret.

Locke looked to Edgar who gave a slow, cautious nod.

The man frowned for a moment. "I wish I could say my loyalty to Gestahl is as strong as it was to his father, but I would be lying. His father should be rolling over in his grave at the boy's actions. Reggan would like to consider me a Returner, but let's just leave it that I'm sympathetic to your cause. Now, tell me, what do you need?"

"We need a distraction," answered Edgar as Locke waved the others closer, "We have to get into the research facility and need someone to pull those two guards away from their posts. Do you think you're up to it?"

Barret sighed. "Bloody Ancients. Yes, yes, I'll help. But if you're caught…"

"We've never seen you before in our lives," finished Sabin.

"You catch on pretty quick," replied Barret with a smile, "Okay, you got a way inside?"

Edgar and Locke nodded, and Barret seemed to steel himself for the inevitable.

"Ancients be kind," whispered Cyan.

Barret made his way to the guards, as close as he dared without leaving the cover of the crates. Without warning, he suddenly got his feet and walked out unsteadily towards the two guards, his hands holding his stomach and groaning.

"Who the bloody hell are you, fool?!" yelled one of the masked guards.

"Oh Ancients," moaned Barret, "I… I'm gonna be sick."

Barret suddenly looked as though he was trying to prevent himself from throwing up all over the guards' boots. One of them gave him a rough shove to the side, but Barret was tenacious, crawling back over to them.

"Urrrgh… I'm gonna… toss it… _all_!" he got out through heaving breaths.

"Let's flaming get him out of here," said the other guard. Both men grabbed Barret under his arms and began to drag him away, over to the side where a small trench contained a tiny stream of water, the two guards doing their best to pull him further away from their post.

"You know, Impressario might want to take a look at that guy," commented Edgar.

"Move!" rasped Sabin, pushing his brother and then Celes up one of the support struts and onto the rafters, then swung up behind them, while the others climbed up support struts of their own.

The two guards continued to ignore anything except Barret, making sure he didn't empty his stomach over their boots and uniforms. Within half a minute, they had made it past the guards' post and around a corner. Sabin leapt the 20 feet back to the ground first, then waited to catch the others, though Gau jumped on his own, and had to bite his knuckles to keep from laughing out loud. The others shook their heads in amusement. Two massive iron doors stood before them, but at Locke's inspection, were unlocked.

"No one would be stupid enough to walk into the lion's den," commented Edgar.

Locke chuckled. "Yeah, no one except us."

"We have a job to do," said Sabin, his eyes narrowing and turning hard, "Let's go."

They pushed open the doors, and walked into hell.


	21. Chapter 19: Fallen of the Mighty

Once again, I fear that many have assumed the lack of updates in recent memory means I've died, but I have not, I'm just working really slowly. To those of you who have stood by the story, thank you. There has been some criticism, which I appreciate. Now as we get a bit further into the aspect of magic in the story and the presence of the Espers, I will hopefully bring them to more prominence as well as bring a more significant role for Terra, Celes, and the others, as I've hoped to do here. However, as those who read _Dark Esper_ know, I do not place a great deal of emphasis on the Espers, I want it to be more about the characters themselves. As always, however, this story does have Sabin as one of, if not _the_ (to the Sabin detractors) main character. My apologies to those who don't like it, I only hope to offer enough of the others to satisfy. I hope all of you continue to enjoy this story and offer you compliments and criticisms. Once again, thank you, and enjoy.

* * *

Pain.

Grief.

Suffering.

These were the feelings that permeated the entirety of the Magitek Research Facility. These impressions echoed through the lifestream, even though Sabin was not deep into the meditation needed to fully connect to life and nature. Looking around, he could tell that the others were feeling the effects, even if they didn't understand the source.

Gau was shivering slightly, his eyes wide as he looked around. Celes was even paler than usual, while Locke, Edgar and Cyan looked sick and angry.

Sabin shook his head sadly. There was anger and hatred in this place; that was for certain. It bubbled beneath the sorrow and despair, waiting for the chance to unleash itself. Sabin tried focusing and getting a more concrete direction to what he was feeling, but to no avail; these feelings came from all around him.

"This is an evil place," he muttered, "and many fell things have been done here."

"This place doth chill me to the bone," agreed Cyan, his face contorted into a look of hatred.

The facility itself was as much a marvel of Imperial engineering and architecture as the Iron Fortress itself. Much of the interior was left as empty space; machinery of some kind took up much of the rest. Catwalks were interspersed mostly along the exterior wall of the facility, though a few extended further into the facility, and fewer still widened to the point of being corridors surrounded by machinery or large platforms looking out into the expansive facility.

Energy crackled within the machines, some of it extending out to run along the exterior of the devices. Occasionally, a bolt of energy would pass across the expansive emptiness of the facility.

Locke turned to Edgar, who looked to be somewhere between horror and fascination. "Edgar? You have an idea as to any of this?"

The young king shook his head slowly. "Not a bloody clue. Give me five or six years and I can tell you, but nothing right now."

In the distance, they heard a sound. It sounded like a scream.

Sabin winced in pain. The shadowscar had flared white-hot at the same time the scream had reverberated through the lifestream, hitting his very spirit. It was a double blow that he had been unprepared for. Sabin gritted his teeth until the pain died away.

"Did you just hear that?" asked Locke, looking around wildly.

"I think we all didst hear the scream," replied Cyan with a hint of sarcasm.

"What's the quickest way through this place? Celes?" prompted Edgar.

Celes shook her head. The screams had allowed unwanted memories to sneak into her mind. Herself as a young girl, watched by Professor Cid and Dragonstorm troops. Every once in a while Cid would let her ride the conveyor belts, just like any kid would want to do. But with the soldiers, sometimes she could swear that she could smell their fear or hear the quiver in the voice. Both she and they knew that with just a momentary thought, she could have frozen them in their place, and no amount of training or skill could have saved them.

But there were always those screams of pain and anguish. Only once had she dared to ask what they were. Cid had sadly replied, "Enemies." But not a day later, her tutors knew of her question and beat her severely, ensuring she would never ask again.

_This isn't a time to become lost in daydreams and memories. Focus on your mission, soldier!_

"There are guard patrols along the catwalks all the time, but it would be faster to ride the conveyor belts," she explained, "The conveyors pass through each section of the facility bringing needed gear and equipment. However, we need to go to the eastern section of the facility. There is a room in there that only a handful of people are permitted access to, and each one must be approved by Gestahl. I myself have never been allowed in. If the Espers are here, then that's where they'll be."

"Thou art certain of this?" demanded Cyan.

Celes' face curled into an unattractive sneer. "Well I guess you'll just have to trust me, won't you. Otherwise, look around on your own!"

"We trust you," said Sabin in a strong yet quiet voice, "Get on, everyone."

Edgar followed behind his brother, both of them leaping at the same moment. They landed heavily on the conveyor, followed quickly by the others.

They rode in silence, though they kept themselves poised for a fight. All were keeping their eyes open, but no guards came into sight. As they continued on, following Celes' direction as to when to get onto a different conveyor, Sabin began to wonder where everyone was. Why was this place so deserted?

* * *

On the _Blackjack_, Setzer sat by himself at one of the tables in the main gambling hall. Leaving the care of the ship in the capable hands of his crew, Setzer was whittling the time with games of simple solitaire.

It was certainly an eclectic group that he had dumped off his ship this morning. The King of Figaro and Knight-Retainer of Doma, working together… That was unusual in and of itself, and probably worth a few hundred gold to the next information broker he stumbled across. Add to that the cooperation of Celes, an Imperial general, and you had a magitek keg ready to explode.

Pity about that, he thought. Such a shame that the gorgeous Celes was on her way back into a firestorm in Vector. They'll probably all be dead by this evening, and he didn't even get a chance to sleep with her. Setzer shook his head ruefully; he was going to fall behind on his conquests if he kept this up.

"Skipper?"

Setzer turned to the voice, seeing his old friend and the _Blackjack's_ first mate, Janson. The two of them had been friends since Setzer had ordered the first planks for the _Blackjack_ lain. Janson might look like a pirate and a simpleton, but he knew this ship inside and out just as well as Setzer did.

"The engines have cooled down, cap'n," reported Janson, "and we've done a complete walkdown, cleaning up everything for our next passengers."

"How's the crew?" asked Setzer.

Janson hesitated for just a moment. "The men are a bit nervous being this close to Vector, especially without any real explanation. If we were on our way to pick up a general or Gestahl they'd be okay. But the men're beginning to think our guests were Returners, and they're not happy about getting involved in that fiasco."

Setzer nodded in understanding, not wanting to be involved in a war against the Empire any more than his crew.

Then Janson spoke again. "The men also… well, some of them asked me to speak to you about not letting the Ironhand back on board, skipper."

Setzer's eyes rose at that. His men had always enjoyed complaining good-naturedly about the pompous blowhards that came aboard, but since those were usually the biggest gamblers, the men didn't mind a small bonus for putting up with them. But he'd never heard of his crew seriously asking him not to allow someone aboard.

"Did the Ironhand bother them at all?" asked Setzer, "Inquire into any of our business? Threaten anyone?"

"No, nothing like that, skipper," replied Janson, "he just stood up on the foredeck. For a while he was just kneelin' there, still as could be. But all the men knew who he was, cap'n. None of 'em wanted to be near him. They thought he might see into their hearts, pull the truth from their lips and burn us all to cinders. Burn me, cap'n, but I've heard the stories, too, and like some of the men, I wouldn't put it past him. A lot of the men have shifty pasts, and at least two had fathers who ran afoul of Duncan Ironhand, years ago."

Setzer thought back to the muscle-bound brute who'd called himself the heir of Ironhand. He'd never encountered the last Blitz Master, Duncan Ironhand, said to be the greatest hero who ever lived. He _had_ heard the remarkable tales of the Blitz, those supernatural powers that the masters of the Ironhand style possessed. But from what he'd heard, tales of the Ironhands indiscriminately destroying enemies in their path was grossly overexaggerated.

"Tell the men that the Ironhand won't be any trouble to them," he told Janson, "let them keep their distance from him and he won't bother them."

"We could leave, skipper," suggested Janson, "we're all prepped and ready, and who knows what those madmen will bring back with them… _if_ they even come back from Vector."

Setzer nodded silently. He'd had those very same thoughts.

"Let's give these nutcakes a little while longer, Janson."

Janson nodded once. "Aye aye, skipper."

He turned to leave and headed for the stairs as Setzer turned back to his cards.

"Janson!" called Setzer, halting the other man in his tracks. Neither man turned to look at the other. "What do you think their odds are?"

Janson thought for a moment. "I won't give them anything better than five-to-one against."

Setzer nodded thoughtfully. "I think it might be quite interesting to roll the dice with them. What do you think?"

"Skipper, you once told me that from then on you would only gamble with your money, never again with your life."

He continued walking, but paused at the stairs.

"On the other hand, skipper, that Lady Celes _is_ quite the prize."

Without another word, he left Setzer to his thoughts.

* * *

Edgar held his autocrossbow at the ready, watching the right side of the conveyor over Sabin's shoulder while his brother watched the left. He didn't like this place. The patrols of Dragonstorm guards had been too sparse for a place of such importance. They'd had to leap off the conveyor a handful of times to avoid being spotted. They'd picked up some equipment that had been left unattended. In one of the guard rooms had been a suit of plate armor and a well-crafted shield, both of which had a strange golden hue to the steel, though the shield bore no insignia. The armor didn't fit any of them right now, but a little work by a decent armorer would fix that. Cyan carried the shield, while Edgar carried his older iron shield on his back.

Sabin suddenly waved, getting Edgar's attention, then pointed down on an angle. Edgar looked ahead, and saw that just ahead the conveyor went into a sort of tunnel, then he could see a sharp drop in the angle. He nodded to Sabin, then turned and waved to Locke and Celes, following behind, giving the same signal, and saw Locke give the same to Cyan and Gau.

Turning back, he saw that Sabin was just at the edge. Without warning, Sabin leapt into the air, somersaulting as he did so. Edgar could tell his brother's shoulder hit the conveyor just at the downturn and Sabin slipped out of sight.

"Bloody fool," Edgar whispered to himself.

The light dimmed as he entered the short tunnel, and he braced himself for the fall that was coming. Suddenly, without any warning at all, he was falling. After a moment of panic, wondering just how far the drop was and wondering if they'd made a mistake, light flooded his eyes and he landed hard on his rear.

"Owww!" he moaned.

"Watch that first step," came Sabin's voice, "it's a killer."

A strong hand grabbed Edgar's upper arm and pulled him along for a few steps, then Edgar's eyes began to adjust to the light, and he could see he was next to several boxes against a wall. He rubbed his sore rear as Sabin moved over to where Locke and Celes had just fallen, the latter having landed far more gracefully. Locke, meanwhile, was quietly cursing up a storm. Sabin quickly grabbed their arms and pulled them over to Edgar while their eyes adjusted to the light.

"You could have warned us about the drop," Edgar whispered harshly to Celes.

The young blond smirked but said nothing.

A moment later Cyan landed with the same unceremonious thump, while Gau appeared a moment later, holding onto the ledge above with one hand.

"Waroo!" he quietly cried happily, "That fun! Want to go again!"

"Blasted, foul contraption," muttered Cyan as Sabin pulled him over, "I curse thee to all three hells, and any more that may exist."

Locke took a long look around their surroundings. The crates were piled high, leaving only a small walkway along the ledge where the conveyor had dropped them. To the right of the conveyor, the walkway led to a flight of stairs going up to a higher catwalk. The crates and boxes around them were scattered about, as though no one here had really cared to organize them.

"Everyone all right, then?" asked Celes. Nods came from the other men, three of them rubbing their sore behinds. "All right, I think if we…"

"Shh!" commanded Sabin.

"What…"

"Shh!"

Sabin had a look of intense concentration, his eyes staring holes in the ground. After a moment, Gau sniffed the air and began to growl. Then the others were able to make out the sounds of footsteps coming down the stairs towards them.

"Take cover!" whispered Edgar, and instantly the six of them scattered to hide among the crates. The footsteps grew closer and louder, and they began to make out the sounds of a man's laughter, until they saw who walked past them on the catwalk.

"Kefka!" hissed Locke, but Edgar immediately cuffed him over the head, getting him to shut up before he gave them away.

Sabin said nothing, but his hands suddenly glowed with the power of the Blitz. A small hand rested on his forearm, and he turned to Celes, shaking her head worriedly. Grimacing at yet another chance to destroy this villain slipping away, Sabin released his spiritual power and let it dissipate.

Kefka stood next to the conveyor for only a moment, and then a strange form fell limply to the ground. All of the young heroes gasped.

The being was a petite, blue-skinned being, feminine in build with long sea-green hair that spread across the ground. She appeared to be nude, but like with Terra, one part of the body seemed to meld into the next. She seemed to be whimpering, struggling mightily just to raise her head.

Kefka let loose with a maniacal laugh.

A moment later, another form fell. This one was far larger and more muscular, with fire-red skin, a fierce face and the horns of a bull. This one was definitely male, and wore only a small loincloth. A deep, animalistic growl emanated from his throat.

"Pathetic!" sneered Kefka, grabbing the man by the horns and the woman by her hair, and throwing them further into the room.

"Fiend!" hissed Cyan, as he and the others scrambled for positions to watch whatever Kefka was doing.

"Those are Espers," whispered Locke, glancing at Edgar every few moments, "they have to be. I'd bet my life…"

Celes clamped a hand over Locke's mouth, keeping him silent.

"Mwa hahaha!" laughed Kefka, in that frightening, cruel tone of his, "With your delightfully sacrificed power, you are donating more and more of their strength to me! Soon, very soon, I will take the power of _all_ the Espers that exist, and then I will become _all powerful_!

His cruel laughter seemed to fill the entire facility with a strange chill.

"Please…" whimpered the female Esper, "why…?"

Kefka nearly flew forward grabbing her throat and chin roughly in one hand and held her face close to his own.

"Why? You ask why? As I collect you and drain you, I extract your raw magical power. Soon you will be nothing, the Espers will be extinct. And with your stolen power I will restore the statues!"

"Statues?" whispered Locke, looking over at Celes, whose blue eyes were boring holes into Kefka's back.

"Now that I've drained you of any useful power you may have had left, you are now worthless to me!" cried Kefka gleefully, "Enjoy eternity with the rest of the garbage!"

Lifting the blue-skinned Esper woman by the throat, Kefka held her high enough that her feet dangled helplessly in mid-air. With a snarl, Kefka then threw her into the garbage pit next to him.

"No…" said the other Esper in an almost plaintive growl.

Kefka found this hysterical. "Why don't you take a hike and get out of my sight?!"

With that, the madman kicked the prostrate Esper in the stomach. The force of the blow was so strong that it lifted the Esper into the air and sent him hurtling over the railing without difficulty.

Kefka chuckled cruelly. "Well. That takes care of that. Time to see how quickly the rest of my pretty little Espers are dying. Vwe heeheehee!"

With that, the madman turned back and walked towards the crates. The young heroes quickly returned to their hiding places, sneaking glances at Kefka as he walked past. No one moved until his footsteps up the stairs had died away.

The six heroes moved at once, rushing to the edge of the pit where the Espers had fallen. All of them stared down into the darkness.

"This…" stammered Edgar, "this is what they've been doing. This… this _crime_. The Espers… this must be where Celes' and Terra's magic came from. From draining the very life out of the Espers."

"I never… I never knew," said Celes, nearly choking on the words, "I was never conscious, they made sure of that. I never knew the screams could have come from Espers. I never thought, never knew…"

"We're not saying you did," Sabin told her calmly, "and we don't doubt you. You've told us what you remember, that's enough for us."

Edgar glanced over at his younger brother. _Really?_ he asked with his eyes, _Is it really enough for us?_

But Sabin didn't reply. Instead, all he said was, "We can't let those Espers die down there."

"What do you suggest, Sir Sabin?" asked Cyan, "That we climb down and face both Espers? Thou art a good man but perhaps sometimes blinded by thy ideals thou might be."

"Maybe they know something," said Locke, "maybe they know where the rest of the Espers are, or how we can help Terra, or…"

"Thou need sayeth no more, thief," admonished Cyan, "I art willing to descend to help Lady Terra."

Locke pulled a length of rope from his satchel and carefully wound a knot around the railings, giving several short hard tugs to make sure it was secure. He was about ready to test it when Celes pushed ahead of him.

"Please," she said quietly, "please, let me go first. I have to…"

She didn't seem able to finish, and Locke nodded and let her descend. He pulled a lantern from the wall, then saw Edgar and Cyan do the same.

Celes descended slowly, not really certain what they would find down here, and the light from her compatriots' lanterns was too dull for her to make out many details. Finally the floor came into view and she looked up. She had probably descended sixty or seventy feet, the walls this far down were made of roughly hewn stone.

Her feet finally touched bottom, and she had to fight to keep her balance for a moment. The ground was at an angle that she hadn't expected, sloping down just enough to be noticeable, ending in a ledge leading to an even deeper chasm. As Locke and Edgar came with their lanterns, she could now make out a set of stairs along the far wall, carved directly into the stone, which is probably why she didn't see it from above.

The whole chamber stank of rot and garbage. As the others came down with lanterns, she could see more of her surroundings. Body parts and skeletal remains littered the ground in a mound against the wall. Instruments of torture were strewn about, along with needles and saws and knives. Every few seconds it seemed that some small object fell from the pile and skittered down into the chasm. Celes had to wonder how many horrific secrets lay at the bottom that the Empire had casually discarded.

"Where are they?" wondered Edgar.

Celes shook her head, remembering that they had come down after the two Espers. Despite the light coming from all three lanterns, none of them could find the two beings amidst the junk. But Celes could feel some sort of pressure in her mind, the same that she had felt in Narshe and again in Ramuh's presence in Zozo. The Espers were down here.

"Spread out," she directed.

Cyan grumbled about taking orders from an Imperial, but he moved off to one side and began combing through the rubble.

Celes herself used her sword to push aside rubble as she looked. Locke watched her as surreptitiously as he could. He was curious about her right now. She seemed off, not at all like how she'd been in Narshe and Zozo and in the wilderness. There, she'd been doubtful of her future, whether she could atone for what she'd done as an Imperial general, but she'd been sure of herself to the point of arrogance most of the time. But here… even her order for them to look around had been hesitant.

Something was just not right with this place.

Celes had just kicked aside a scrap of metal when she saw it. Pale blue flesh. She'd found the Esper woman.

"I have her!" she cried triumphantly, pushing aside another large scrap of metal, revealing the rest of the Esper.

"NO!" roared a voice, and suddenly the red-skinned Esper man crashed up through the rubble at Edgar's feet. The bull-like Esper was wreathed in a web of flame and his eyes were like orbs of molten lava. "No one shall have us! We will not be made slaves again!"

The Esper let out a roar, pointing at Celes. Before she could react, flames lanced up from the floor at her feet, driving a spike of fire into her chest. The power behind the mystical blow lifted Celes clear off her feet, throwing her back to crash into the rubble. The angle of the room and the rubble caused her to slide towards the chasm before she was stopped by landing against someone.

Looking up, she saw Cyan with a disgusted look on his face before he charged the male Esper.

"Doma eterna!" he cried, sword raised as he rushed the bull-like Esper.

"No! Ifrit!" yelled the other Esper, who then brought her hands together, palms facing out. Without warning, freezing winds slammed into Cyan and Gau, standing behind him, while razor-sharp shards of ice hurtled through the air.

Cyan cried out in pain and fell to one knee, the pure power behind the Esper's magic more than he could take. Gau had been partially covered by his compatriot and took far less of the mystical assault.

Ifrit roared out in laughter, then threw one hand towards Locke. Flames erupted from his palm. But the flames twisted in the air, pouring into Celes' outstretched sword, light blue runes glowing along the blade.

"Shiva!" yelled Ifrit, "Join me against the Nullifier!"

The blue-skinned Esper drew in a deep breath and blew out a breath. Celes felt the intense cold that burrowed deep into her bones. Suddenly she realized how she'd made all the enemies she'd ever frozen feel.

Suddenly Shiva flew to one side, and behind her was Sabin bringing his leg down from the kick he'd thrown at her ribs. As his leg touched down, his hands were already glowing with energy, and he spun, throwing his hands forward, firing an aurabolt at Ifrit. The beam of spiritual energy caught the Esper on the shoulder, spinning Ifrit around and he sank to one knee for a moment.

"Corrupter!" yelled the Esper, who promptly blasted Sabin with roaring flames. The martial arts master just barely managed to remain on his feet, though his shirt was smoldering at the edges and his skin was smoking.

Locke saw all this happening, and knew that the power of these two Espers could only be defeated by the magic of another. His hand went into his pocket, feeling for the Magicite that Ramuh had become. As his hand touched it, he could feel a slight tingle in his fingertips. He had heard the unintelligible whispers in his mind, speaking to him of the wonders of magic. He'd been able to channel Ramuh's lingering power once or twice, but this would be the first time using it for real.

_Well, it's now or never_, he thought.

Muttering to himself the words that formed the power within his spirit, he suddenly pointed one finger at Ifrit. A bolt of blue-white lightning shot from his fingertip, striking the Esper in the chest.

Ifrit cried out just as Shiva was getting to her feet. The flames that surrounded Ifrit suddenly grew brighter and more… ferocious, as he turned his attention to the young rogue.

"Ifrit, wait!" called Shiva, halting the larger Esper in his advance. The young heroes staggered to their feet, and Shiva walked towards Locke. Ifrit continued to split his glares fairly evenly between Celes and Sabin.

When Shiva got within arm's length of Locke, she paused. "I sense… one of our own. A kindred spirit, and a friend."

"The girl's blood flows alongside our own within her," growled Ifrit, "She is one brought forth through that which was taken."

But Shiva seemed to ignore him, focusing on Locke. She reached out with one hand, and a moment later, the Magicite of Ramuh floated out of Locke's inner pocket.

"Ramuh?" she whispered, "He… he is gone, then. And he has bestowed you with his power."

Ifrit shook his large head. "Ramuh? Impossible. This must be a trick, Shiva!"

"Feel it for yourself, Ifrit," insisted the blue-skinned Esper, "Ramuh has allowed himself to join the lifestream. I can feel… he was at peace with his passing. He entrusted his power to these mortals. Feel the Magicite for yourself if you no longer trust my word."

The larger Esper gave a rumbling laugh. "I have never doubted you, Shiva. Never in all our millennia together."

Shiva favored him with a wide smile, leaving the group of humans confused.

"If you are Espers, then why did you attack us?" ventured Celes, speaking softly and deferentially. The two Espers, while obviously injured by the group's attacks, didn't seem to be in any pain at this point, and Celes wondered if she and the others would have actually survived an all-out fight against them.

"If Ramuh has trusted you…" said Shiva, trailing off at the end.

"We do not have much time," Ifrit said with a growl, "We can only sustain ourselves for a short while longer."

Shiva nodded, taking her companion's words thoughtfully. "We shall trust you. Please forgive us. We have been held by the madness of Gestahl and his minions for many years. They have drained us of power, drawn out the magic that gives us life and strength. Not since the Great War have trusted in the hearts of mortals. Now we are left with little choice but to trust you."

"Trust us with what?" asked Locke, finally sheathing his dagger.

"Our lives, and those of our friends," answered Ifrit, "The mortal known as Gestahl has imprisoned our compatriots; fellow Espers who were taken from our world. Each of us who had been taken had a single destiny in Gestahl's eyes; to be drained of our power to fuel his war against all others. Shiva and I have both suffered our time in their enchanted cells. Tubes of glass, strengthened by magic to be very difficult to break. An Esper at full power could break it without difficulty, but we have been so weakened that even to escape the tubes would leave us vulnerable to the soldiers who guard us. Neither of us has much time left… and most of our friends have already passed beyond comprehension of their surroundings.

Shiva nodded sadly. "We will follow in Ramuh's footsteps. For some reason, he felt that he could trust you. So we too shall entrust you with our powers."

"We _will_ save the others!" declared Edgar, "On the honor of my family, I swear it!"

"Such a foul fate shan't befall your comrades!" added Cyan.

"Farewell, beloved," said Shiva, smiling sadly at Ifrit.

"We shall meet when we are one with the lifestream. Heart and soul forever."

Ifrit suddenly erupted in flames, as though he was burning from the inside out. At the same time, Shiva's body began to crystallize, ice forming over every inch of her skin. Ifrit suddenly seemed to detonate with a roar, and an icy howling wind filled the chamber. None of the heroes knew whether to sweat or shiver.

In mere moments, it was over. Floating where the two Espers had stood before were two Magicite shards, glowing softly with power. Gau and Cyan stepped forward, the only two who did not already have a shard. Locke still carried Ramuh's within an inside pocket of his jacket, Edgar carried Kirin, Sabin had Sirin and Celes had Stray hanging around their necks on silver chains that had magically appeared when they even thought about wearing the Magicite as an amulet.

"Ancients," breathed Locke. He could hardly believe it. He'd been taught all his life that Espers were just myths and legends. Now he'd been witness to three Espers dying, and knew that three others had already passed. This was definitely a world away from his childhood in Kohlingen.

"Now what?"

Celes' question jolted Locke from his brief reverie, and once again he looked at the beautiful younger woman. Ancients but she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. But her hesitation and uncertainty since arriving in Vector were odd, and Locke couldn't understand the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He shook it off, attributing it to his own inborn paranoia.

"Now we go up," Sabin replied, grinning, "unless of course you feel at home with the garbage. I understand some thieves find great treasure in the refuse."

"Treasure hunter," came the grumbled comment from Locke.

While Edgar and Cyan joined Locke and Celes in climbing the stairs built into the far wall, Sabin was doing his best to lighten Gau's mood by turning the climb up the rope into a game. This quickly had the boy laughing.

The stairs were just wide enough that Locke didn't have the feeling that he was about to tumble over the edge, but they were too narrow for more than one person at a time. Leaving Edgar and Cyan behind, he hustled a bit to catch up with Celes. She was climbing at a determinedly quick pace; not looking around to either side of her, just staring straight ahead.

Locke rested a hand on her upper arm when he reached her, causing Celes to turn briefly to glance at him. Locke swallowed hard, and this time not just because he wasn't sure what to say to this beauty. Instead, this time, he saw a look of frostiness, and exhaustion. As though she'd finally come to the end of a marathon, and only now realized that she should have stopped miles earlier.

"Celes, are you all right? Is there something wrong?" he asked her. She didn't turn to face him, but there was a slump in her shoulders that Locke had never noticed before.

"No… nothing's wrong," she sighed, "I just…"

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

At this point, Locke would gladly have tried to move mountains for Celes if she had asked. But she still didn't face him.

"No, nothing. I'm just ready for this all to be over with. I'm so tired of fighting," Celes said quietly. Without another word, she pulled her arm from Locke's grasp and took a few extra steps ahead of the young rogue. This time, Locke knew, he would leave Celes to her thoughts. Being put off by her was a little discomforting to him, but Locke knew that he should give her some space to think.

After a while, they finally made it back to the main level of the facility. Sabin and Gau scouted as silently as they could, but there was no trace of Kefka nor any signs of Dragsonstorm troops in the area. They climbed the stairs that Kefka had come and gone from, finding themselves in a long hallway. Along either side were tubes of glass, every one almost large enough to hold a gobruk. Each was empty at the moment, but steam was rising from many of the machines in the room, which Edgar told the others meant they had been used recently and were now cooling down.

The door at the end of the hall was of stout oak reinforced with strips of steel.

"There'll be a guardroom on the other side," explained Celes, "these reinforced doors can be locked from the the inside with a squad of troops, creating a bottleneck if any force were to try and invade the facility."

"Then let's break it down," said Sabin, stepping forward confidently.

Celes put a hand to the martial artist's chest. "Even if you are strong enough to break the door down, which I doubt, there may be stealthier ways to get past it."

While they spoke, Locke had moved up to the door and lifted the handle. It moved without a problem.

"Door's open," he announced smugly, then he turned to Sabin, who was grinning widely.

_Burn him_, thought Locke, _even getting shown up by me doesn't wipe that grin off his face. Looks like I've got a mission_.

The young rogue grinned to himself with that thought.

The next room was small, perhaps only twenty feet from one end to other. A trio of cots ran along either side, with small footlockers at the base of each. At the far end of the room stood another person. Whoever was there was draped in a heavy cloak, but the height and breadth of its shoulders, nearly as wide as Sabin, could not be disguised, and the hood was pulled far down enough to completely conceal his face.

The person's back was facing the group, hands folded at its waist. The figure did not move at their approach; it just remained still in front of the door.

Sabin put himself in front of Celes while Cyan approached the figure, his sword drawn, held back at his hip, blade pointed at the floor. Edgar held his autocrossbow at the ready.

"Good sir," began Cyan, "there doest be no need for thou to fight us. We do outnumber thee. Stand aside and there shall be no reason for you to be hurt. We have no desire for more blood if thou doest not attack. Please sir, there doest be no need for a fool's courage."

When he was within arm's reach, Cyan reached forward and put a hand on the figure's shoulder. Instantly its head snapped up.

"Defensive sequence initiated," came the figure's voice. It was deep but rough and guttural, as though the words were unfamiliar and the tongue was not meant to form such speech.

With lightning speed the figure spun about, one arm flashing out like a viper. Cyan cried out in pain and the others were shocked to see blood seeping through his armor and jacket.

Locke gasped and Gau snarled as the figure paused for a moment. It looked human, with a man's broad shoulders, but the face was almost blank. The nose was tiny and the mouth was only a thin line. Blackish-blue hair fell down about his shoulders, and the eyes were a lifeless black. The being's arms were powerfully muscled, but where each wrist should be sprang a long blade of black metal, reaching nearly to his knees.

"Bloody Ancients!" cried Edgar, who without a moment's hesitation brought up his crossbow and loosed a trio of steel bolts into the creature.

The figure grunted, which was its only indication that the bolts had been felt. Gau leapt forward, roaring like a lion, a terrifying sound coming from the young boy. Two fists crashed into the being's chest, sending it stumbling backwards, off-balance. But if the blows affected it, the figure gave no indication. Two quick cuts with its arm blades had Gau on the ground, with bleeding cuts above both knees.

Celes pointed a finger at the being, crying out the last word of what she had been muttering; an indecipherable syllable that harnessed the power of magic in her soul and in those words. Frost crawled up the being's legs, and its breath created misty clouds with each heavy exhalation.

"Back up and take cover!" yelled Sabin, "We need more room to maneuver!"

Even as he said that however, he himself leapt forward to look the creature in the eye. His fists lashed out as merely blurs to the others, striking with palms, elbows, fists and forearms, each one landing against the being's ribs on the left side. A spin and Sabin drove the heel of his boot into his opponent's jaw, and the others heard a sickening crack. The being's jaw hung at an angle, and blood, nearly black in color, dripped freely, staining the light blue shirt that it wore.

But still the creature seemed to feel no pain, striking back against Sabin with a furious all-out assault. Sabin gave ground, his hands a blur once again, but this time in rolling parries, catching and redirecting the being's blows where its wrists should have been.

"Back up!" cried Sabin, "We're coming through!"

Locke held a dagger in one hand, and with the other was convulsively clutching the Magicite of Ramuh.

_Oh Ancients,_ he thought desperately, _how do we stop this thing? Edgar's bolts don't hurt it, Celes magic, Gau's or Sabin's fists… Burn me we need some help here!_

The Magicite suddenly grew warm in Locke's hand, and he could almost feel the crystal shard reaching out to him, trying to draw Locke's very spirit into itself. It was as though it was trying to make Locke the fuel for whatever it was about to do. The feeling reached its peak just as Sabin and the creature came back through the door. The sudden sensation of a spark shooting out of his chest nearly knocked Locke to the floor.

On the far side of the creature, still engaged in its deadly dance with Sabin, something shimmered. A figure, tall with snow-white hair and a long beard, dressed in emerald robes appeared, still somewhat ethereal. It was Ramuh.

_But how? Ramuh died, I still have his Magicite shard in my hand_, thought Locke in amazement.

Ramuh said nothing, but stared at the creature battling Sabin, and now Cyan as well, who despite the cut across his chest was moving with swift and sure techniques. Ramuh's eyes sparkled, and then they began to crackle with lightning, and the orb capping his quarterstaff did the same, lightning sizzling all around it. Then a pair of massive bolts of energy lanced across the room, exploding into the creature's back. The being gave an eerie howl of pain as it stumbled forward, pitching forward as it went to its knees.

Sabin and Cyan wasted no time nor breath. Sabin's elbow came down like an avalanche against the being's spine, and Cyan brought his sword plunging through the heart. The being fell to its face without another sound, and did not move again.

"What the bloody hell was that?" breathed Edgar, his crossbow still pointed steadily at the unmoving figure.

"I… I had heard some rumors," ventured Celes, "a series of experiments meant to bond the power of Espers to people."

"A different way to create Magitek Knights like yourself?" asked Sabin.

Celes shook her head. "No. It was an attempt to create something stronger in magic and less independent. An automaton of a kind, I believe they called it Number 024, with no thought or will of its own, only the commands of its masters. It must have been the latest of the same series of experiments"

"So they came up with this… monstrosity," commented Locke with a sour expression.

"That's similar to what a lot of people have called me," replied Celes icily.

Locke's jaw dropped. "No… that's not… I didn't mean… I mean, not like… you're not, umm…."

Locke stumbled over the words, several apologies flashing through his mind, and not a single one seemed good enough. Each one had something about it that would likely anger Celes, and that was the last thing he wanted. She was twitchy enough when it came to him already.

"You're not a monster, Celes," Sabin told her, despite a snort from Cyan, "you weren't given a choice. None of us were. No one has a choice of how they're born, the only choice we have is how we live. Some who are born choose to live their lives as monsters, and some monsters choose lives of peace. We are who we choose to be."

Locke looked around; Edgar was nodding slightly at his younger brother, while Cyan looked at him with the pride a father would have at a son's accomplishments. Gau had a happy smile as he hugged Celes around the waist, saying he liked her, and she was no monster. Celes herself seemed to take strength and confidence from Sabin's words, standing straighter and with a smile more meaningful than it had been before.

_Burn him_, thought Locke, _how does Sabin always have the right words, especially for Celes, and I'm always tripping over my tongue around her. He needs someone other than Celes to give those attentions to._

"We should keep going," Celes said, her voice strong and steady.

"Indeed, Lady Celes," agreed Cyan, "we must be prepared for anything. We canst not know what other foul creations Gestahl may have beyond thee doors."

"We know one thing he has back there," said Edgar, "Espers. I think we should relieve him of the burden of keeping such a secret from the rest of the world. What do you guys think?"

Sabin grinned. "The stress of this secret must be killing him, Ed. I agree, we should help him out."

"Waroo! We free Espers, we free Espers!" sang Gau as danced around a bit.

"Quiet!" hissed Celes, "It would be really dumb for us to be caught this close to our goal, wouldn't it?"

"Right," agreed Locke, "we still have to find the Esper here who can help Terra. I just hope Kefka hasn't already drained him or her of all their energy."

"We won't let her down," said Sabin with fierce determination in his eyes.

Locke moved towards the door that had been blocked by the experimental creature and pushed it open. Celes was the last to step through the door, watching her companions as they stared around the room.

The hall was a long metal walkway, more than 20 feet across, and clearly not constructed with any other part of the research facility, for the walkway was suspended over a seemingly bottomless pit that faded to blackness below them. Along either side of the hewn rock walls were cables and machinery holding many more glass capsules, each of them as large as the ones before; large enough for creatures the size of a gobruk or a Gigas ogre. Nearly 10 feet of empty space separated the walkway from the glass containers, most of them empty save for the hissing of steam.

But six of the capsules were filled with a translucent liquid, slightly blue in color, and within the liquid of each floated an Esper.

Each one was unique, some with figures that could be mistaken for human at a quick glance, but they all appeared… _more_ than just human. Shoulders were broader, arms thicker, or they were slender and more graceful. They possessed skin of varying hues, with eyes and hair of colors none of the party had ever thought was possible. Others seemed more bestial, with traits of certain creatures, though some among them had the characteristics of many creatures mixed together.

One and all though they seemed barely conscious.

"Bloody Ancients," whispered Locke.

Slowly, all six of them made their way down the walkway, to the intersection with another metal catwalk going across. They stared at the Espers floating in the capsules with quiet awe.

Edgar looked over at his companions. The first face his eyes fell on was his brother's, and stopped there. Sabin looked sick to his stomach, eyes full of pain and horror and disgust. Edgar considered how rare it was to see his younger brother, the heir of Ironhand, so vulnerable. Edgar wondered if his brother, with his unique powers learned from Master Duncan, could actually feel the Espers' pain.

Ahead of them, at the intersection of the two walkways was a control console of astounding complexity. Various gauges, levers, knobs and switches were scattered about, some of them labeled, most were not. Labels said things along the lines of "Redistribution of holding solution," "Intensity of holding grid," and similar descriptions.

Edgar hurried ahead of them, sweeping his autocrossbow left and right, seeing a set a doors at either end of the intersecting walkway, then he moved to the console.

"King Edgar, doest thou have any idea how to work this monstrous contraption?" asked Cyan, his voice full of disgust.

"Give me a minute," replied the Figaran king.

"Half a minute," Locke put in.

Celes strode up next to Edgar, looking over the console with him. She noticed that Edgar didn't touch anything. Only his eyes moved, the rest of him was so still that he might as well have been frozen. Behind those sky blue eyes, Celes could almost imagine gears turning as he examined the controls, considering his options and eliminating possibilities. Celes realized that she'd never really considered how smart Edgar really was; he was deciphering one of the most technologically advanced control consoles in the world just by looking at it.

Without warning Edgar thrust his crossbow at her.

"Here, hold this for a minute," he ordered, and then his hands flew over the controls.

After a moment, there was a sound like dull roar, and each of the six capsules separated, spilling blue liquid into the black abyss. The front part of the capsules fell forward, just barely meeting the walkway. The Espers had been held by numerous cables, some that merely encircled limbs, holding them still, others that were driven into their skin.

As one, all six Espers turned to regard the party, eyes hard with the experience of a thousand years and more. What sense of victory the young heroes had felt evaporated under the power of those ancient gazes.

"You have saved us," one said weakly, his brownish skin had clearly once been the color of good oak, but now it was pale and sickly, "though you have no reason to risk yourselves. Why do this?"

"Ramuh, and Ifrit and Shiva asked us to help you," said Celes, "we need your help with a friend."

"You wish to help us…?" said the Esper wonderingly, "None have sought to help us since before the Great War was waged."

"Maduin," came the voice of another Esper, though it was not clear which one it was, "we do not have long. Our strength ebbs, there is no recourse but to join the lifestream."

The Esper, Maduin, looked at his fellows before turning back to the party. "We are not long for this world; we have not the strength to maintain ourselves. As Ifrit, my friend, and others have done before us, we shall grant you what little strength we have left. Do well with this power, and honor the memory of those who came before."

All six Espers began to erupt with power; lightning and fire and ice, sparks with every color of the rainbow, scorching heat and freezing cold, the crash of breaking glass and the still of silence following, searing light and blinding darkness. All of this and more assaulted the party, forcing them to turn away from the upsurge in power.

The span of time that existed between when the surge of power ended and when the mortal heroes were finally able to turn back could have been mere heartbeats as easily as it could have been centuries. Where the six Espers had stood or lain before, now only a half-dozen shards of Magicite floated in the air. Celes stretched her hand towards them and they gently moved through the air before coming to rest in her palm. Without a word she handed them over to Edgar.

When he looked at her questioningly, all she said was, "I know Cyan won't trust me with them."

Edgar held the shards gingerly, feeling the warmth that pulsed through them. He could almost imagine himself holding life itself in his hands.

"Let's get out of here," commented Sabin.

The others nodded, but just as Edgar opened his backpack to store the Magicite, Gau snarled. A moment later the sounds of pounding footsteps reached their ears, and a moment later a man burst forth from down the corridor.

"No, no no no no!" cried the man as he stared around at the shattered glass capsules. He was not a tall man, his head probably barely reaching Locke's eyes, wearing the dark clothes of commoners beneath a hooded yellow longcoat, stained with soot and grease. His spectacles reflected the light in the room, magnifying his already large green eyes. Gray-specked auburn hair poked out from the hood, the same as his thin moustache and beard.

Strangely, the man ignored the group for the first few moments as he stared around in horror, almost whimpering at the remains of the holding capsules.

"Ruined," he moaned, "absolutely ruined. The Espers, there'll be no replacing them."

At that moment he finally realized he wasn't alone in the chamber, and he nearly jumped back in surprise, his eyes widening with shock.

"What…?" he cried, "Who are you?! What are you doing here?! What in the name of the Ancients have you _done_?!"

Before anyone came up with any kind of reply, the man's eyes darted to the Magicite shards still in Edgar's hands. They still glowed with a light of their own and pulsed with life and power.

"So that's, _that's_ it then," said the man, stroking his beard, "That's why there was always energy left, even after all these years. Condense the power, but only in death. But since the Espers are themselves born of magic, how could an Esper die? Unless death is a choice… to pass on their power to another when they are too weak to survive on magical energy alone. Bloody Ancients! Brilliant!"

"Professor Cid," Celes said sharply, and the man's eyes suddenly refocused, realizing that they were still there.

"General Celes," he replied warmly, with a smile that his beard couldn't hide as he walked towards them, "it is good to see you home again. I was beginning to think Gestahl would never call you back from your mission in the north. It does my heart well to see that you're all right. Now who might these rather dubious characters be, eh? Your troops?"

He smirked at them, as though he had never seen a more bizarre group of soldiers in his life. Which, being a part of the Empire, he probably had not.

Celes struggled with herself, with the urge to smile and cry, to wrap her arms around the only man who had really ever cared for her, to blurt out everything that had been happening in the past few months. Her throat was thick, and tears burned at the corners of her eyes.

"No, you see…" Celes didn't know how to tell him.

Cid's eyes narrowed, taking a look at the group once again. This was not the ever-wandering look of an absent-minded genius. This was the gaze of a genius, who was evaluating what was before him and applying that mind to a logical end. The young heroes were suddenly very worried.

"There are rumors," Cid said in a low voice, "rumors that you came here as a spy, seeking to cause an uprising. Tell me this is not true, Celes. Tell me I did not bring up to betray everything we have worked for!"

"I…"

Words failed her. The pain of betrayal in Cid's eyes cut her more deeply than the blade of any foe. If there had been anyone in her life with the Empire who had been anything close to Gestahl, it was Cid. She could not deny it, but she could not admit to it.

Locke gaped at Celes. Why wasn't she saying that she had abandoned the Empire and joined the Returners? Why wasn't she saying the truth, unless… Locke tried to bury that errant thought back in the little hole it had come out of, but it stayed resiliently. Could it be she couldn't blow her cover yet, was she an infiltrator like Cyan had always maintained? Locke felt like his heart was ready to jump into his throat, and his breathing became shallow.

"Celes?" he croaked, barely recognizing the sound as being his own voice, "Are you… did you…?"

Celes opened her mouth to reply, but a cackling laugh echoed down the chamber. Kefka strode in behind them, dragging the lifeless body of Number 024 behind him, then throwing it dismissively into the abyss. From the doors on either side of the group came a trio of Magitek armored soldiers, and behind Kefka marched a dozen Dragonstorm troops. All their weapons were aimed at the rebel heroes.

Celes stepped forward, putting herself between Kefka and the others. But the mad general turned it to his advantage, grabbing Celes around the shoulder and spinning her around so that the two of them were shoulder-to-shoulder, and then Kefka held Celes close to him. She tried to struggle, tried to pull away, but she could not escape from that nearly-supernatural strength.

Kefka laughed at the slack-jawed astonishment present on the faces of Celes' companions. There was nothing sweeter than pain and chaos. He turned his eyes to the crystal shards that the Figaran king held in his hands and glared at them, then turned to look over his shoulder at Gestahl's pet scientist.

"They have to die for us to take all their power! Cid, you witless, miserable blockhead! Each of those shards could power an army alone!" raged Kefka, causing the scientist to take a few steps back, "Now, General Celes, time to end this game. Take those shards and let's go. We'll leave these worms to their fates with our troops."

Kefka's horrid laughter echoed through the chamber's silence, while Celes turned to Locke, trying to say something, anything, but words caught in her throat at the look of betrayal in his eyes.

"Celes," breathed Locke, "You… did you… you're not… you, you deceived me?"

Locke's accusing words, and the look in his eyes made Celes feel as though her heart wanted to stop beating. "No," she breathed desperately, "please Locke, have some faith."

"Faith?" echoed Kefka mockingly, then continued through his laughter, "Oh Celes, you tricked _all_ of them? How precious! These cretins actually believe that you're one of them, that you're a Returner! That's cold. That's so, so… you! Now finish the mission and collect those shards!"

Locke gasped at Kefka's words, how they were said with such familiarity. The reality began to sink in, surrounded by Imperial troops, having followed an Imperial _General_ of all things right into a trap. Not only had they turned over ranking members of the Returners, but the king of Figaro and Knight-Retainer of Doma. Cyan had been right from the beginning. They should never have trusted her.

"Locke…" whispered Celes, staring at him. Everything that they had gone through, the battles they'd already fought together, none of it meant anything. Just a few words from Kefka and they knew that they'd been betrayed.

"I… I…" Locke tried to speak, but there were no more words that could come out of his mouth. To think that this was the same girl he'd found chained beneath South Figaro, the same who had been so wondrous at the opera house, the same whose eyes he didn't want to turn away from. The girl he'd grown to know was a lie, she had made him protect her, care about her, worry for her, even… But she'd lied. She was a traitor.

_She betrayed us all… she betrayed me. Why Celes? Why?_

Kefka's laugh hardly made them move. "You are such a wonderful actress, Celes! But the show's over now. Finish it!"

Celes looked at the others, without the strength even to argue with Kefka. Locke was looking at her as though they'd never met before, like he didn't know her at all. Cyan's glare was filled with fury, knowing that he had never trusted her from the start and now to be so forcefully proven right galled him. Edgar looked sick, fear on his face, obviously thinking about Figaro and what would happen to his people. Gau was confused, looking worriedly between herself and the men. Sabin wasn't looking at her, but instead his eyes flicked back and forth between the three groups of Imperial soldiers.

Her eyes met martial arts master's only briefly, but he showed compassion in his gaze. Then, with a confident smile, winked, and then nodded at the Dragonstorm troops behind her.

"I'm tired of all this!" snapped Kefka, "Destroy the fools! Exterminate them all!"

The Magitek soldiers on both sides of them let loose with the power at their disposal. Beams of searing white-hot energy and flashes of ice so cold as to freeze them to their bones hurtled at the party. The catwalk melted and exploded and froze around them, flinging them in different directions even as they scattered.

Celes leapt closer to Kefka, avoiding the blasts that were coming nowhere near the madman, and Sabin's own leap carried him high into the air over the beams of energy, and bringing him down into a predatory crouch, his hand drawn back, wisps of flame rising from his steel-plated glove.

The others unfortunately, had caught the majority of the blasts. Locke was struggling to push himself back up onto his good leg, the other was twisted awkwardly, probably from having the knee knocked out of the socket. Cyan's and Gau's hair were both rimmed with frost, obviously the elder knight had done what he could to protect the young boy. Edgar fared the worst, unwilling to risk losing the Magicite he had fallen to the ground and curled into a ball to protect the shards. A long burn across his back still sparked with the occasional crackle of lightning and he groaned in pain, hardly moving.

"You monster!" screamed Celes, "Call off your dogs, you bloody lying bastard! I'm not your spy, not your lackey! And I'm not Gestahl's either! You were trying to have me executed! Tell them!"

Kefka laughed and shook his head mockingly. "What a performance! Oh Celes, I knew you were good, but not _that_ good. Quit trying to put on such a show. They know who you are now, you can stop the charade. We all know your loyalty to Gestahl is unquestioned."

"You _liar_!" raged Celes rushing at Kefka and smacking him across the face with all the strength she could muster.

An angry red handprint marked that deathly pale face and Kefka snarled wordlessly, then grabbed Celes around the throat.

"If you want to fight me like the others, then you can die with them!" he rasped. Kefka then flung her backwards until Celes nearly landed on top of Locke, still struggling to his feet.

There was a gash across Locke's forehead, obviously from landing the wrong way on the catwalk, and blood flowed from the gash into his eyes. Celes looked at the others, also struggling, at Kefka watching them mockingly, and at Sabin, still poised for action, looking like he was getting ready to move.

Celes knew Sabin was good, fast, and the heir of Ironhand, but there were still six Magitek soldiers and a dozen Dragonstorm troops. He might be able to take out one or two of the Magitek soldiers on his side, but the last would take him out if the three on the far side didn't do it first. This was beyond him, she knew that. But there was still something she could do.

When Celes met Sabin's roving eyes, she swallowed hard. Sabin shook his head slightly. She ignored him.

Celes leaned down closer to Locke, slipping the Magicite shard of Stray from around her neck and putting it in Locke's hand.

"This time, Locke, I'm going to protect you," she whispered, "just this once, let me protect you. Maybe then you can believe me."

Locke's eyes opened briefly through the blood dripping in them as he felt Celes gently stroke his cheek, and he gasped her name.

But Celes charged at Kefka, throwing her knee into his stomach, then wrapping her arms around his head and shoulders, holding the madman immobile. The weapons of all the Imperial troops immediately zeroed in on Celes, but grappling with Kefka they dared not fire.

Celes began to murmur unintelligibly, her eyes closed and her face a mask of concentration. She delved into the power of magic, the cold power that had always been hers. The chanting aided in this, ancient words of power that she had never been taught, but that were able to harness and channel magic through her.

The chamber began to tremble slightly, and then shook violently. Imperial soldiers and Returners alike were thrown to the floor, only Celes and Kefka remained standing, through all of Kefka's struggles. Light was white as sunlit snow began to shine from Celes, quickly becoming blinding to all the others.

She ignored the cries from the others, from the weak gasps of Locke and Edgar to the defiantly strong yell from Sabin, telling her not to do this. But she had to do this, this time she would be the one to save them, save all of them, especially… She blinked away the tears in her eyes.

"Celes! NO! What are you doing!" demanded Kefka, "STOP IT!"

The blinding white light flashed with an explosion of power, knocking everyone backwards. Locke knew this was it, this was the end. He offered quick, silent prayer to the Ancients that it would be painless, and then he waited for the inevitable.

He waited for what might have been five seconds or five years, there was no way for him to tell. It took him that long to realize he hadn't been scorched by flames or frozen with ice, but his leg _did_ feel better. None of which he'd expected. Very slowly, Locke opened his eyes, looking down at his leg. It was straight, and there was no pain when he rolled his ankle. Then he turned to take in the rest of the chamber… and gasped.

Aside from himself, the other four men and Professor Cid, the chamber was empty. No Magitek soldiers or Dragonstorm troops were there with weapons ready. Kefka was gone, and so was Celes. Locke stood up, and noticed Edgar do the same. The king's tunic was irreparably shredded across the back, but no injury marked the flesh.

"We're alive," he murmured.

"Indeed we are," replied Sabin, a grim look on his features.

Edgar looked around in confusion. "I don't get it. Last thing I remembered was getting blasted by Kefka and Celes' troops."

"They weren't Celes' soldiers," growled Sabin.

"Whoever they doth, they art gone for now," put in Cyan, scowling.

Professor Cid, shaking as though he was going to fall apart, stood up as well, readjusting his spectacles on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck wearily.

"Bloody Ancients, what the hell just happened?" the scientist asked himself, then looked around, seeing it was only himself and the rebels, "Celes? Kefka?!"

"Where Miss Celes be?" asked Gau.

"Celes? She's… she's…" Locke tried to think, past her betrayal, past her siding with Kefka, she'd… There were two shards of Magicite around his neck. "Oh bloody Ancients!"

Locke nearly fell to his knees as he realized what Celes had done. His hand closed convulsively around Stray's shard, the one Celes had carried. He didn't know how Celes had done what she did, and he wasn't even entirely sure why, but he knew one thing.

Celes was gone, and it was he who had betrayed her.


	22. Chapter 20: Light of Knowledge

Okay, it's been a while, and I've been reviewing all of the comments that have been made. To everyone who has thought that Sabin has been getting much screen time, I will do my best to cut it down a bit, but please do understand I started this story because I _wanted_ Sabin to be the hero. Yes, it is a novelization, and I do everything I can to stay true to the game, but this is MY story. I appreciate the criticisms, don't think for a second that I ignore them. 

As a personal comment, I think this is one of my better chapters. I cut down on the length of the few fight scenes, and did my best to show the interaction between the various characters, to let you (the readers) see how they deal with each other's motivations and background. I can't guarantee the quality of the chapter to follow (the Esper world and such), because I always felt that was a tedious part of the game, but I promise to do my best.

Any other comments, questions, concerns, compliments or bashing you wish to do are appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy.

* * *

Everything was happening as though Locke was watching from some distant point. The sounds were muffled, movements seemed awkward and jerky. Edgar was shoving the shards of Magicite into his backpack. One of the control consoles exploded in a shower of sparks and metal fragments, peppering Sabin, who had covered Gau's smaller body with his own to protect the boy. Cyan was yelling something at someone.

It took Locke a moment that Cyan was yelling at _him_.

"You must move, Sir Locke!" the elder knight was yelling, but Locke just stared at him, uncomprehending what was happening.

"He's in shock!" yelled Sabin, "Knock him out of it!"

It wasn't until Edgar's right hook sent Locke sprawling that things finally seemed real.

"Bloody Ancients!" cried the rogue, rubbing his jaw.

The entire Research Facility was coming apart; the walls were crumbling, pieces of the ceiling were beginning to fall in chunks. The explosions of the control consoles and the holding tanks had started fires that were quickly getting out of control.

"What the bloody hell did she do?!" gasped Locke, referring to Celes' magical removal of Kefka and all the Imperial troops.

"Who knows," replied Edgar, pushing a strand of bloodied blond hair from his face, "but I'll be glad to think about it once we get out of here. Come on, back down the catwalk."

He and Cyan each grabbed one of Locke's arms and hauled the rogue to his feet, half-dragging him along. Sabin had a firm hand on Gau's shoulder.

"Let's go, Professor," said Sabin, grabbing a hold of Cid's collar, who Locke now noticed had been scampering around, trying to fight a losing battle against the equipment that kept exploding in his face.

As they made it about halfway back to the door, a large chunk of the ceiling suddenly fell.

"BACK!" yelled Cyan, leaping backwards as he did so, dragging Locke and Edgar with him.

The slab of steel-reinforced stone crashed into the walk, tearing through the thin grating with a horrible screech of metal-on-metal. The walk beneath the first group of three men gave way beneath their feet, ready to spill them into the black abyss. But before it could, Sabin reached down, grabbing Locke and Edgar's flailing arms, while Gau caught Cyan by the shoulder of his breastplate.

The two men pulled the others back up onto the walkway.

"Thanks, brother," breathed Edgar.

"Anytime, Ed."

"Now how do we get out?" asked Locke, looking around for some other escape route.

"If you Gigas-brats hadn't been in such a hurry to destroy everything, there might have been a way to avoid this disaster!" cried Cid, looking around as though the destruction of the facility was causing him physical pain. "This catastrophe was started by your little spat with Kefka, now it's started a chain reaction that's going to make this place blow! We'll be lucky if the Iron Fortress doesn't get blown up with it! Bloody… something! Follow me!"

With that, the small spectacled man ran back the way they'd come, towards the raging inferno that had been the control consoles.

"Can we trust him?" wondered Locke. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach, how was it that trust had suddenly become such an elusive concept to him? He'd never had a problem with trusting others. _Oh Celes… why?_

"Do we have a choice?" growled Sabin, before hurrying after the scientist, Gau loping behind him.

"I've had enough of questioning people's characters and loyalties for one day," muttered Edgar before he set off to follow them, still holding his autocrossbow.

"If thou scientist doest decide to trick us, he shalt pay for the misdeed before he has a chance to plead," Cyan snarled, "but for now, we must give him our trust, for there art no escape. Kefka shalt _not_ get the Magicite!"

Locked nodded, and the two of them immediately followed the others, dodging falling debris, keeping as far from the flames at the control console as they could.

The others were standing on a corner of the walkway, crowded together.

"Hurry, hurry!" Cid urged them. As soon as Locke and Cyan had crowded together with the others, Cid hit a switch on the railing. The floor shook for a moment, then rapidly but smoothly began to descend into the darkness of the abyss. They were all silent as they fell through the blackness. Small globes of red light appeared every few moments, though it was impossible to determine the distance between them or how far down they were descending.

"So," began Cid, trying to sound calm, though a slight quaver came through, "all these years… all these years trying to make the world a better place, a safer place… Kefka was using me, using the whole Empire as well, all for nothing but to feed his hunger for greater power. I should never have used him as a test subject all those years ago."

Cid lapsed back into silence for several moments, and none of the others were in the mood to interrupt his musings.

"What have I done?" moaned the scientist, "All those Espers, every one of them. I thought it was necessary. The Urthmen… we needed the power of magic, to be used by men against whatever the world could throw at us. United, we could stand against any enemy. Alone we would fall. Gestahl, he knew that we would need to protect ourselves one day, knew that we would need the power of the Espers, but under our control, not under the control of those who could destroy us. But they were just like us, weren't they? How many have I killed? How much have I destroyed?"

Cid was choking back small sobs, and in the faint light that passed them every few seconds, the others could tell the scientist was staring at his feet.

"I won't do this anymore," Cid told them quietly, "I've come to a decision. This day I was shown what I've really been doing for the last 20 years, and it stops now. I will go to Gestahl and talk with him. I will _make_ him end this stupid war. It's not worth the innocent lives that have already been lost, much less the lives that we could yet lose."

"Be careful," Sabin told him.

"Don't mention your plans to anyone else," added Edgar, "Kefka will have you thrown from the top of the Iron Fortress, and so will many senior advisors and military commanders. Speak only to Gestahl. He's got a strategic mind, and he'll know that we won't stop. You tell him that Figaro will do everything possible to oppose any further conquests. And remind him that if he thought King Andris Figaro was tenacious, he hasn't seen anything that even comes close to the sons."

Sabin's grin looked like a predatory cat's.

Cid nodded as the platform slowed its descent, and eventually came to a stop. A few of those globes of red light hung in the air, illuminating a set of tracks and a mining cart. The tunnel they were in stretched into darkness in either direction, more of the globes of light hanging in the air in regular intervals.

"These tunnels were once used by the Urthmen to move about in secret," explained Cid, "Gestahl had the tunnels sealed early in the Urthmen's invasion, but with the end of the war he had them re-opened to provide secret routes for moving Imperial Army forces."

Cid looked long and hard at the rail cart, then sniffed. Pulling out a handkerchief, he absently cleaned his spectacles.

"Celes…" he muttered, and Locke's breath caught in his chest, "I knew her since she was a baby. She was like my own daughter, I raised her as best I could, when her tutors let me. Despite her training as a Magitek Knight, she was still the closest thing I ever had to family. I let them turn her into a cold-hearted machine. I am so glad she found the lot of you, she looked as though she'd begun to acknowledge feelings and emotions. If only I could talk to her right now, with all of you present, to tell her how proud of her I am, and apologize for how her life has been."

Edgar was inspecting the mine cart, but Locke moved closer to the scientist.

"If you could talk to her now?" asked the rogue, "Cid, where is she? Is she still alive?"

Maniacal laughter suddenly echoed through the darkness above them. Edgar's autocrossbow was already aimed into the air, and Sabin's hands glowed with energy as Gau gave a low growl.

"NO!" cried Cid, "You have to go, now! You can't fight Kefka, not if he brings an army down here with him. Flee now!"

Cyan grabbed Locke's upper arm and began dragging him towards the cart as Edgar and Gau hopped in.

"What about you?" asked Sabin, looking hard at Cid.

"Don't worry about me," was the scientist's reply, "Kefka is a madman, but he won't dare to harm me, nor any that Gestahl considers a favorite. I'll be fine. Get yourselves out of here, the rest of the world needs you all. Go, _NOW_!"

Sabin grasped the rail cart on one side while Cyan took hold of the other. Together the two men began pushing the cart along the track, going faster and faster until Cyan had to jump in, his bulky armor slowing him down. A few moments later, with another pair of solid pushes, Sabin leapt into the cart as well.

The small cart was now quite cramped with the five men are squeezed in together. Edgar stood in the front, holding his autocrossbow so tightly that his knuckles were beginning to turn white.

"Where we go?" asked Gau timidly, looking at the solid stone that surrounded them, clearly frightened but trying to appear brave.

"An exit," answered Locke, but then he quietly added to himself, "hopefully."

They were silent for several minutes, trying to make out what they could in the dimly-lit tunnel. Locke knew that if the others could see his face, they might have joked about his now-greenish complexion. This was definitely not a method of travel he ever cared to use again.

_Next time I may just decide to die rather than do this again_, he thought to himself.

The next thing they knew, there came a scream that sounded like the screech of metal on metal.

"What the bloody hell was that?" wondered Edgar.

"As long as we doth continue to proceed, let us not seek out more trouble," advised Cyan.

"I don't know," commented Sabin, "trouble usually finds us easily enough."

Gau roared, and the other four turned to look behind them, and gasped.

A creature, its skin dark in the faint light, with blades for arms just like the Magitek creation 024 in the facility above, but with a single wheel where its legs should be, hurtled out of the shadows.

"It's gaining on us!" cried Locke. Indeed, though the five heroes only had the momentum of the cart to propel them, this monstrosity sped towards them under its own power.

"We dare not fight in these confines!" Cyan told them, "We must continue on our path!"

"Hit 'im from range!" ordered Edgar, swinging around to let loose with a hail of bolts from his autocrossbow.

The pure white light of Sabin's aurabolt pierced the darkness, the flash blinding the others for a brief moment. Gau drew in on himself, taking a deep breath, his face contorted into a mask of rage. With a heavy blow, the boy expelled the air from his lungs. The moment the air left his mouth, it erupted into a blast of flames that roared through the tunnel, engulfing their pursuer.

Unfortunately, only a moment later, the being emerged from the flames, rolling towards them at breakneck speed.

"King Edgar, use thy Magicite!" yelled Cyan, reaching for his own.

"Help us, Espers!" intoned Edgar, "We need you now!"

The shards of Magicite seemed to draw upon the spirits of both men, drawing upon their innermost power as a fuel, and the ethereal forms of Shiva and Ifrit appeared, hovering in the air on either side of the cart, easily keeping up. Both focused upon the group's pursuer, and both let loose with mighty blasts of energy. Fire and ice slammed into the being with the power of ancient magic. Frost covered it from head to wheel, slowing its pursuit just for a moment, and then Ifrit's flames blew the creature to fragments. The stench of burning rubber reached the noses of the heroes, but only for a few moments, before they sped on.

"Did we get it?" wondered Edgar.

"I can't see it following," Sabin replied, "I guess so. Let's get out of here soon."

The trip was silent for another few minutes, and they somehow maintained their speed even though they could tell they were on an incline. Suddenly they turned a corner and hurtled into bright sunlight. Their eyes were used to the dim lights of the tunnel and were nearly blinded by the sudden appearance of the sun.

Locke only just barely managed to get one eye squinted open before he saw the end of the railway.

"Oh, bloody Ancients," he muttered.

The cart hit the end of the railway and sent the five men spilling out to the ground. Hard stone met their arms and shoulders and backs, making them bounce and roll, denting their armor and bruising their bodies. For a moment, all they could do was lay there and moan in pain.

"Well," groaned Sabin, "who's up for that again?"

Muttered curses were the only response.

Suddenly, they could hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Imperial troops," said Locke, pulling out his dagger.

"I do say gents," said a familiar voice, "you look a might banged up."

"Setzer?!" burst Edgar, who then pushed himself to his feet, unconsciously straightening the dirty and ragged tunic that he'd worn from the airship earlier that day, "What in the name of the Ancients are you flaming doing here?!"

Setzer grinned. "I was getting a little concerned about Lady Celes," answered the gambler, "you've been gone most of the day and I thought the good lady might appreciate a gentleman with…"

His voice broke off abruptly, his eyes widened and looked over the group. The young blond whom he'd been looking for wasn't there. Setzer's smile faded as Cyan helped Locke to his feet and Gau and Sabin did the same.

"Gentlemen," he began, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, "where _is_ Celes?"

Locke swallowed hard and tried to speak, but nothing more than a croak made it past his lips. This fop had no right to ask about Celes, he never felt as Locke had felt, he'd never lo…

"Not now," Edgar told him, "Kefka's very likely on our tails. Let's just get the bloody hell out of here and we'll fill you in once we're safely away."

Setzer nodded. There would be time for explanations later. If they survived, that is. "This way, I brought the _Blackjack_ closer to the city, it's only fifteen minutes outside the city gates on foot. And don't worry about the guards at the gate, I've taken care of them."

Twenty minutes later, having passed a pair of guards who were still weighing the bags of coin in their hands, the six men reached the _Blackjack_, and First Mate Janson ushered them aboard, as the ship wasted no time in climbing into the air.

* * *

There was a high-pitched scream of rage from the southwestern tower of the Iron Fortress, and pieces of equipment were strewn about, having been tossed around the area in Kefka's anger.

He peered to the south of the city, his keen eyes picking out that accursed airship lifting off the ground and coming north. That was the only possible way those buffoons could have made it to the southern continent as quickly as they did. That meant that Setzer had associated himself with the Returners. The fool. They were all fools to oppose him! He would make them suffer, they would whimper and plead and beg for mercy before the end.

Celes' moment of altruism had caught him by surprise in the Research Facility, but the sounds of her cries of pain had done quite a bit to improve his mood after that. Still, he felt that longing in his blood, in the center of his heart. That desire to kill, to take a life and end it with his bare hands, to see the face contorted in such sweet, sweet agony…

He contented himself with the memory of what his words had done to the others. They believed him about Celes' betrayal of them. The pain in their eyes, the agony he felt in their hearts was delicious. He could only hope to make them feel such pain again, and again, and again…

Kefka pulled himself from his musings with difficulty. The airship was getting closer; it would fly over the Iron Fortress in minutes and the Returners would escape back to the north. He snarled at himself and at the pathetic excuse for army that was about to let a half-dozen men escape the most fortified city in the world.

Then his eyes wandered slightly higher, and to the tower he stood upon, then he glanced over at the southeastern tower.

"Oh yesss," he hissed, a feral smile spreading across his face, "that will work. This will be sweet."

* * *

"See, didn't I tell you the _Blackjack_ would be ready for our daring escape with Imperial soldiers hot on your heels?" Setzer boasted as the city of Vector passed by below them.

"That doest not mean thou must flaunt it with flight directly over the Iron Fortress," criticized Cyan.

Setzer laughed. "Ah, my dear Doman knight, what is the purpose of being a hero if you can't show it off to the people? They must know you are the hero! Although, as they say, all good things must come to an end. So gents, let's be off!"

Setzer took over at the wheel and his crew moved with practiced discipline, tightening lines and ropes, securing crates, and moving around the five who stood watching the sides. The engines thrummed as Setzer gave them more power, and soon the Iron Fortress was almost underneath them.

"I hope Gestahl gets a good look at my ass!" commented Setzer with a laugh.

As the southern towers passed beneath the bow, Gau let loose with a cry. "Waroo! Waroo! Claws! Sharp claws!"

Sabin had just made it to the boy's side when the airship was suddenly halted and held in place. Setzer added more power to the engines, but to no avail. The ship was well and truly stuck.

"We're stuck!" he yelled, "What the bloody hell is this?"

"Cranes!" yelled Sabin, as the others ran over to either side of the airship, and saw the iron cranes holding onto either side of the _Blackjack_. As they watched, the tips of the cranes seemed to unfold and expand, as smaller hooked claws rose and grabbed a hold of the banisters, clenching tightly. Then the young heroes heard the sounds of engines working, and realized they were being pulled down towards the fortress.

"They're going to reel us in like Doman trout!" cried Setzer, who pulled out a handful of his cards and hurled them at the crane holding onto the starboard side. The crane sparked where the razor-edged cards cut across it, and threw out a continous stream of sparks where one of the cards had sliced through a cable.

"Nice work, gambler," complimented Edgar as he reached into his backpack. A moment later he had pulled out a small engine with a notched oval blade coming out one side of it.

"What the bloody hell is that?!" gasped Locke.

"One of my newer inventions," answered Edgar with a grin, "the chainsaw. It was stolen from my workshop a few weeks before you and Terra arrived. I picked it up again while we were in Zozo. It was in one of those secret rooms behind a clock.

"Less talking and more hitting, please," Sabin called to them, his voice level and unhurried as he blasted the port crane with an aurabolt, "in case you haven't noticed, a small army of Dragonstorm troops are waiting for us below."

Locke closed his eyes and focused, muttering words that he didn't realize he knew, then pointed at the port crane and fired a bolt of lightning that exploded upon hitting the metal crane. At the same time, sparks flew from the starboard crane as Edgar's chainsaw dug in, the screeching and whining of metal being cut through drowning out the Figaran king's laughter.

Cyan hung from a rope tied around his waist by the _Blackjack's_ crewmen, holding onto the rigging as he cut and hacked away at the joint that was wedged up against the airship. On the other side, Gau was perched on top of the crane itself, also secured by a rope held by several crewmen.

Working together, the heroes and the crew were able to make short work of the iron cranes, cutting through them at about the same time, and Cyan and Gau were hauled back aboard by the crewmen. Gau laughing saying he wanted to keep flying, while Cyan looked almost sick to his stomach.

When at last the cranes fell away, the _Blackjack_ still high enough to be out of crossbow range, Janson wasted no time and put the ship at full power even before Setzer had the chance to shout out the order. Unlike his captain, Janson wasted no time on pomp and flash, and the _Blackjack_ was quickly well out of range for any Imperial weapons.

On one of the parapets of the Iron Fortress, a pair of wild violet eyes watched the airship speed away. A snarl of rage slipped past Kefka's lips, and only one thought reverberated within his twisted mind:

_They will pay. I will make them all pay._

* * *

"Now, I don't suppose you can tell me what happened in Vector, and where the bloody hell the lovely Celes is now?" said Setzer.

They were an hour past Vector, and with no sign of pursuit, Setzer had the engines dialed back to the ship's normal cruising speed and set a course direct for Zozo, per the request from Edgar and Locke. He and the other men had gone down into the ship where their clothes had been brought, finally allowing the five men to get out of their dirty, ragged and battle-torn clothing and back into their usual attire.

Edgar was just finishing putting his hair back into the gold clasp he'd gotten at the Opera House and sighed. His muscles were sore and stiff, and he relished in being able to put aside the heavy breastplate that had become like a second skin, at least for a little while. A long hot bath was also definitely in order.

"We made it inside the Magitek Research Facility without much trouble," the young king explained, "and went through without encountering much resistance. Eventually, we made it one of the secret areas of the facility and saw Kefka torturing a pair of Espers."

Setzer cursed softly under his breath, but held his tongue otherwise.

"We then ended up fighting some kind of Magitek creation of Gestahl's and finally made it to the main containment area," continued Edgar, "there were a half-dozen Espers there, all held in some kind of cages with mystical containment fields, designed to keep the Espers physically and magically incapacitated and even barely conscious. They turned into Magicite…"

"Magicite?" interrupted Setzer.

Sabin pulled out the shard that hung around his neck. "Crystals such as this are the final form the Esper takes when it chooses to die," he explained, "each still contains the essence of that particular Esper, and retains enough to be able to bestow a fraction of that Esper's power to the wearer."

"We also found out that the Esper, or at least an ethereal version of it, can still be summoned in order to use power that it can't pass along otherwise," Edgar went on, "Celes… she saved us. Kefka came in after the Espers passed, and he had us surrounded. She used her magic somehow, made Kefka and the soldiers with him vanish. Then we escaped with the help of Professor Cid."

Setzer was quiet for a few moments as the others rested weary bodies. Two liveried servants entered quietly and left tea and alcohol, then retreated without a word. Edgar leaned forward and poured himself a glass of brandy, then did the same for Locke and Cyan. Sabin took tea for himself and Gau.

"So where is Celes now?" asked Setzer.

Locke tossed back a large slug of the brandy, coughing as the alcohol briefly burned against his throat. "We don't know," he answered hoarsely.

"Thou foul Kefka didst tell us that Celes doest be a traitor, and thee worked against us from the beginning," growled Cyan.

"That's what he said," agreed Sabin, who then abruptly stood and made for the door, his face contorted with anger and frustration.

"Where are you going?" asked Edgar.

"I need to meditate," was the answer, and then Sabin was gone.

The others were silent for a few moments, then Gau broke the silence, saying, "Mr. Thou mad."

The others looked at the young boy.

"Why doest thou say this, Sir Gau?" asked Cyan.

When the boy looked at Cyan confused for a moment, Edgar translated. "What makes you say that?"

"Miss Celes gone," said the boy simply, as though that explained everything.

"Why would he be mad that Celes is gone?" wondered Locke, his chest growing tight at the implications.

"Mr. Thou friends with Miss Celes," replied Gau, "Miss Celes not like Gau, but she like Mr. Thou."

Locke's throat and chest constricted. He knew it, he knew that Sabin had had ulterior motives for all his speeches to Celes. And Celes… she hadn't just betrayed his trust, but his heart as well.

_I don't know how I'm going to go on_, he thought, _I'm not sure why I should_.

"Look, it's been a long, hard, eventful day," said Edgar rising, "I think we should get some rest. Setzer, could some of your people prepare baths for us."

Setzer rose with a nod. "And my own masseuse will be made available if you wish, your Majesty." The last was said with a smirk towards Edgar. "I'll speak with Janson, but we should reach Zozo the day after tomorrow."

"I thought you weren't interested in helping us," commented Locke.

Setzer gave the hint of a grin. "I wasn't, especially after losing my bet with Celes. But I promised to help you get down there, and now I fear things have turned interesting. I want to see how all of this turns out, after all, I've put my money on you."

"This isn't a game, Setzer!" yelled Locke unexpectedly, "This is war! Do you get it yet?! People are dying! People's true natures are revealed not to be what we think they are! The sacrifices we're each going to have to make will make what we've already gone through seem like petty change! Is it getting through to you yet?! Is it?! When the chips are down are you going to stick through the tough times?!"

"Locke!" roared Edgar, causing the young rogue to halt in his tirade, then added in a calmer tone, "That's enough."

The treasure hunter sank back into his seat, as though his outburst had drained the energy from him.

"You think I'm unaware of the danger?" asked Setzer with a wry grin, "Kefka saw the _Blackjack_ as plainly as anything this afternoon. It wouldn't matter to him whether I was helping you willingly or if the Returners had taken me hostage, Kefka will come after me with a vengeance. I've kept myself out of trouble for many years by going with the flow when the Empire called on me. But I know what sacrifice is, better than you think I might. I know what it feels like to lose everything you've held dear. I may have put my bet on you, but I'm with you now, so if you lose, so do I."

Locke swallowed his swirling emotions and pushed them to the side. Taking a deep breath he slowly stood up and looked at his companions, receiving nods from Edgar and Cyan, and bright, beaming smile from Gau. With a solemn face he thrust his open hand towards the gambler.

"Welcome to the Returners, Setzer."

* * *

Sabin tossed his shirt over the clothes bar next to the bed, the comfortable southern-style rug felt good and warm under his bare feet. His meditation had taken him right through supper and into a good portion of the night. When he had gone down to the rooms, he'd been surprised to find that Setzer had already had small nameplates fixed to the doors of the rooms they'd previously stayed in. There was still warm bathwater in the bathing suite, a bath and a quick shave had helped make him feel much more human.

A soft knock sounded at his door and Sabin sighed. "Come on in, it's open," he called.

A moment later, Edgar appeared in the doorway, already dressed in sleep clothes. "Hey there, little brother."

"Edgar," replied Sabin.

The two brothers stood in an uneasy silence for a few moments. Both knew that Edgar had come for a specific reason, but was unsure how to broach the matter.

"Listen, Sabin, I need your help with something," started Edgar uncertainly, "Cyan… well, earlier this evening, while we in the bathing suite, Cyan made a comment to me, and I wanted to speak to you about it." Sabin remained silent, looking expectantly at his older brother. Edgar took a deep breath before continuing. "Cyan mentioned that he had a few doubts about your sense of judgment. Not many, but he was a bit… _uncertain_."

"What brought this on?" asked Sabin, his voice emotionless.

"Couple of things. Shadow, for one," replied Edgar, "but that may just be that Cyan's Doman morality clashes with Shadow's mercenary nature. But the big issue is Celes."

"What about her?"

"Come on, Sabin," said Edgar, blowing out a breath, "you can't hide it very well. You can't hide your support for Celes even after what happened today."

"Celes has a good heart," replied the martial arts master, "even as frosty of an exterior she may have cannot hide the truth that is within her. She is a good person, and until I am given concrete evidence to the contrary I _refuse_ to believe she betrayed us."

"Why is it so hard for you to believe?" asked Edgar.

"Why is it so easy for _you_ to believe?!" Sabin retorted sharply, "Kefka walks in, tells us she's a traitor, and with a handful of words erases everything we've gone through since we met Celes in Narshe! Kefka is a villain and a sadist, whose sole delight is inflicting pain. Mental, physical, emotional it doesn't matter to him. Why do you think Celes didn't protest so much? Maybe it was because she could see that Kefka's words had already destroyed the trust you had in her. Maybe because she couldn't believe we would accept the words of a lying psychopath like Kefka at face value!"

Both men were quiet for a few moments, gathering their thoughts and reining in their emotions.

"Sometimes when you talk about Kefka," said Edgar quietly, "it almost sounds like you know him."

Sabin's face contorted for a moment. "I've met him. When I was younger."

At Edgar's expectant and insistent look, Sabin took a deep breath and continued. "I'd been training with Master Duncan for three years, Vargas and I were both 16 and the best of friends. Duncan had taken the two of us on a trip down to Jidoor and to give us a chance to become familiar with the Beldeth Mountains. He wanted us to become familiar with the Gigas ogres and other denizens who were different than those we knew from the Sabil Mountains. Gestahl had come to a performance at the Opera House in his honor and was touring the countryside. A small army of bandits based out of Zozo thought they'd make a fortune by kidnapping Gestahl and demanding ransom from the Empire.

"The bandits were able to wipe out Gestahl's guard force, leaving only three survivors; Gestahl, Kefka, and the captain of the guards, a man named Leo. Duncan heard about the attack, and that's when he told Vargas and I that Gestahl had once been his friend, and he still felt something of that kinship. The three of us pursued the bandits, Master Duncan intent on taking them in the mountains before they got to Zozo. We managed to split the bandits into several smaller units, and the three of us launched a series of guerilla strikes. Eventually we rescued all three men and took them into the mountains to keep them safe on our way back to Jidoor."

Edgar kept silent, but he was astonished. Sabin was talking calmly of wiping out a bandit army with two other men that had overcome Ancients-only-knows how many trained Imperial soldiers. Likely there were a lot of Dragonstorm troops as well. And he and Vargas had only been 16 years old!

"Anyway, during the journey we were forced to stop at a small cottage Master Duncan had built years earlier to tend to Leo's wounds. While there, Gestahl tried to convince all three of us to join the Empire."

"Did he know who you were?" asked Edgar.

Sabin nodded. "It was the first thing Gestahl said to me. He said I looked like Mom. He said he wished that she was still alive, he'd enjoyed knowing her."

The brothers were both silent for a moment, thinking of their long-dead mother.

"Do you think he and Mom ever…" Edgar couldn't finish the sentence. There had been rumors that swirled around the royal court at the time of her death, rumors that Raehel Figaro had been more than friends with Gestahl.

Sabin shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Good," said Edgar, swallowing hard, "it is funny though. We both know Dad could never keep his pants up, even when Mom was alive, and it doesn't bother me. But thinking if Mom strayed… it seems pretty hypocritical to be bothered by it."

"We both have high ideals of who Mom was," agreed Sabin, "but I don't think we need to worry about that ideal being tarnished." Both were silent for a few moments, then Sabin continued. "Anyway, while we were at that cottage, Kefka took every opportunity to take Vargas and I away from Duncan. He used everything at his disposal; he offered us riches, girls, and power. He threatened to hurt Myra, Figaro, the other students, even Duncan. He told us that Duncan would do everything he could to hold us back, that he was going to hoard the power of the Ironhand Blitz for himself. That's when I realized Kefka lied so easily and so often that he would forget what the truth really was.

"That was a tough week, as Master Duncan and Gestahl spent a lot of time talking by themselves and Leo was resting in the cottage, meaning Vargas and I spent far too much time with Kefka. Vargas and I supported each other, kept each other sane when we began to believe Kefka's rants. It drew Vargas and I as close as brothers, but I think that was also what began to plant the seeds of darkness in Vargas' heart, made him begin to wonder if Master Duncan would teach him the Blitz. I remember Vargas became a quite a bit more brutal and determined to prove himself superior to everyone after that.

"Do you now see why I hate Kefka so much, Ed?" Sabin asked his brother, "Kefka most likely ordered Dad killed, he turned Vargas from my friend into my worst enemy, and he killed Master Duncan. Everyone I've cared for in the last fifteen years aside from you has been lost to me because of Kefka. I will never rest, and I will never stop until the threat that madman represents is ended for good."

Edgar was silent for several moments, staring at the floor, his mind churning through what his brother had just told him. After almost a minute, he looked up, and met Sabin's blue gaze with one of his own.

"I see why you don't believe Kefka," he agreed, "and I'll make sure the others don't get on your back about it. I'm sorry, little brother. I never knew…"

"And I wouldn't have told you unless you asked," finished Sabin, "but now you know."

"Kefka owes us a debt," said Edgar firmly, "I wasn't kidding with what I told Cid. Dad had nothing on us when it came to being tenacious. We'll make Kefka understand what it means to be an enemy of Figaro. He's never met anyone like us."

Sabin smiled darkly. "Oh no. Not in his wildest nightmares has he ever met anyone like us."

* * *

Just as Setzer had told them, two days after escaping from Vector, the skies beneath the _Blackjack_ darkened with clouds as they came towards Zozo. Maneuvering carefully, Setzer brought them down below the layer of clouds, and within moments the pouring rain had them all soaked. Setzer continued to mutter under his breath how this was going to ruin his shirt, while at the same time the crew seemed to revel in the rain. They sang and shouted as though this was some of the most exciting flying they'd had in quite a while.

An hour after descending into the rain, the Zozan towards became visible and quickly grew closer. Following Edgar's directions, Setzer perched the _Blackjack_ on the roof of the tower where they had left Terra.

"Lower the boarding ramp!" ordered Janson as Setzer turned the engines to idle.

"Boarding ramp, aye!" replied the docking chief, "Move it worms! The cap'n needs to get down there!"

A litany of swearing accompanied the crew who got the ramp in place fairly quickly.

"Janson, leave two men on lookout at all times," ordered Setzer, "get the rest below with tea and a warm fire."

"Aye, skipper. Good luck down there," replied the first mate.

A small ladder on the side of the roof allowed the heroes to descend to the balcony where they had fought Dadaluma. Sabin winced in remembrance, his hand unconsciously straying to the scar left by the shadowstone. Together they made their way to the doors, where Lock pulled out the Magicite of Ramuh. Lightning crackled from the crystal shard and the doors opened on their own.

They walked inside, pushing dripping wet hair out of their eyes as they approached the bed, Terra still laying there. Setzer gasped at her appearance. Though the others had told him what she looked like and he knew to expect it, that was completely different from seeing it firsthand. The softly glowing skin and the aura of power were like nothing in this world.

"Now what?" he asked his compatriots.

"I'm not sure," answered Edgar, "maybe…"

The shard around Setzer's neck suddenly flashed. They had given him one of the Magicite shards that they had recovered in the Magitek Research Facility, deciding that if he was a member of their team, he deserved everything they did. The shard slowly rose into the air, and floated over to Terra as they all stared in amazement.

The Magicite flashed with power, making the others squint for a moment, and Terra's crystal-like eyes slowly opened, focused solely upon the Magicite hovering before her. She reached up, and her fingers slowly closed around the crystal, shining brighter as Terra brought it closer to her.

"Father?" she whispered, and the others stared at her. Terra raised her eyes and looked at all of them.

"I remember everything now," she said, her voice sounding strange, as though a dozen people with her voice were speaking at once, "my name is Terra Branford, my father was Maduin, and I was born in the Esper World."


	23. Chapter 21: The Sanctuary World

Well, I'm not dead

I'll be the first to admit it's been a while since I've updated, but it is kinda hard to do working at a law firm and having a semblance of a social life. Although it took me a while to get into this chapter, I really started to get into it. Which is strange, because a few chapters ago I was thinking of a way I could skip this chapter. But with the thoughts I've been having on what the War of the Magi would have been like, this chapter started to come together. To those of you who need a break from Sabin, this is your chapter, not a single mention of him. To those of you who would like a peek into my mind about the age of the Magi, you should really enjoy this chapter. As usual, please give me reviews, they help prevent me from falling to writer's block.

Once again, thank you and enjoy.

* * *

The sky was a muted soft blue, the grass and plants a pale green. Maduin noted that even the light from the sun was soft, almost as though it had been filtered. The world that he and his Esper brethren had formed centuries ago was not the real world, and nothing they did could make it as alive, as real, as the world they had left.

He looked around from where he knelt in his garden, sighing as the flowers were in full bloom, but none had the color and vibrant energy that he remembered cultivating for the Magi. The homes were small, and though many looked as though they had been plucked from a village of humans, others had been shaped by the resident Esper's power to take on qualities they were comfortable in. Many small creeks and brooks meandered among the homes, with bridges of wood, marble, glass, mithril, and even stranger materials crossing them.

Maduin kept his eyes from looking towards the cave. No one here wanted to be reminded of the world they had left. Certainly, the occasional Esper would get nostalgic and return to the world for a brief time; Ramuh was notorious for this. Maduin's eyes flicked to the left as one of the small gnomes ran past his garden, carrying a small package. The Espers had created all of the gnomes of this world to help manage the gardens and deliver messages.

Panic flickered through the air, and Maduin rose to his full, intimidating height. His oaken-brown skin caught the sun's pale rays as he turned to see Yura, one of the cavern guards, running this way. Maduin stepped from his garden only to have Yura run straight into him.

"Maduin?! Thank the Ancients, just the Esper I needed to see!"

"What is the problem, Yura?" asked Maduin, "I could feel your panic from my home."

"There's an emergency, I need your help!" gasped the smaller Esper, "Something is coming through the gate!"

Maduin spun and stared at the cave. Nothing had breached the seal to their world in a thousand years. How could this have happened?

"I will investigate," Maduin said calmly, "I need you to find Ran, Tenteki, Ramuh, and Ifrit, as quick as you can. Bring Odin or Rayden if you see them as well. I will set up a preliminary barrier. Go, Yura!"

The smaller Esper bowed in deference and went off. Maduin channeled magical power through his body, and he moved with the speed of lightning, barely more than a blur to the Espers that he passed on his way to the cave. Magic did not flow as easily in this world as it had done in the real world, but Maduin was certain he could hold off any intruders long enough for the others to arrive.

He entered the cave with caution. Too many creatures were still left in the world from the Great War. Creatures that had been weapons in the war the Magi fought against each other, sometimes the Magi had lumped the Espers in with the rest of their mindless creations. Maduin snarled in remembered anger, but quickly tamped it down. He channeled fire through his arm, and a ball of flame glowed in his hand, his fingers curled around the warmth of the flames.

Maduin moved through the darkness, stopping when he saw rays of sunlight illuminating the open doors into the Esper's world. Humans might have though the Espers lived only within a cave within their own world, but the mithril doors that he approached were as much a mystical doorway as a real one. Without the magic of the Espers, the cave behind the mithril doors, where the Espers resided, would have been less than a dozen paces across or back. This pocket world was truly a marvel of manipulating the energy of the world.

A form lay motionless in the small bar of sunlight that filtered past the doorway. As Maduin approached, his orb of flame illuminated the figure more clearly. A young woman, with hair like spun gold and wearing a commoner's dress lay without moving. Mistrust and apprehension mixed with fascination as he approached.

He knelt beside the woman and gently pushed her hair from her face. She was beautiful. If there had been one gift that Maduin was glad that the Magi had given to the Espers, it was an appreciation for all things beautiful, even humans. But she was young, far younger than any Magi he had known, and younger than many of the women he'd commanded in the Great War.

Using arcane sight, Maduin peered at her aura. There was innocence in her heart, but her body was failing; lack of food, water and sleep had drained her of all reserves. Seeing the doors into the Esper world must have given her the last burst of strength to seek aid, Maduin surmised.

What to do, what to do?

Like his brethren, Maduin could not help but remember the madness of the Magi; their pride, their arrogance and their cruelty. Many Espers felt that this was the curse of all humanity. Most of the other Espers would not tolerate a human in their midst; so many of them had died for their Magi that they believed humans could only bring death and destruction. But at the same time, compassion was at the heart of what it was to be an Esper. He could not leave the girl here, without aid she would surely die.

"Think clearly, fool!" Maduin hissed to himself, "What will you do?"

Maduin could not hurt this girl. Centuries had passed since the Great War, and Ramuh had told them that the Magi were no more. This girl had done him no harm. But to bring her here… if she ever left…

No. Maduin knew that she would either be left to die by the others, or she would have to live out the rest of her life in this world. Maduin looked down at the young girl again. His heart clenched momentarily at the thought of ending another life. He was done. He would not have another death on his conscience. There had been more than enough killing in the world.

With great care, Maduin took the girl into his arms. Unconsciously, she turned into his chest. As he walked back to his home, carrying the girl as gently as he could, other Espers came out stare at him. Many looked at her with disgust, some shared the disgust in their eyes with him. Maduin walked with his back straight and his head high. He would protect this girl from the others if need be. That was all there was to it.

* * *

A faint blue glow passed from Sairys' hands over the human girl, the energy felt cool and comforting, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, even to Maduin, standing several paces back.

"There, that should help in bringing her back," Sairys said. She was young, her form mostly human, though far shorter and with a slight build. Pale blond hair was fashioned into two buns at the nape of her neck. Gossamer wings sprouted from her back, beating slightly as she hovered next to the bed. The wings were almost entirely cosmetic; Sairys flew with the power of magic, but they matched her form, an attempt to emulate the fairy creatures that had disappeared long before the Great War.

"She is still very weak," continued Sairys, "my magic can heal but not sustain her. Food and rest are needed. I will have some food brought to you, Maduin. Enough to fill her and return her strength, but something to rest easily within her stomach."

Sairys glided over to where Maduin stood, watching the girl. "Thank you for thinking to ask my help. I am glad to see the centuries have not dulled your compassion."

Maduin smiled at her, glad he had thought to ask for Sairys' aid. Most of the others considered her the most kind-hearted and generous of all Espers. For many, that admission was difficult to make gracefully.

"You would be better off doing away with it!" growled another Esper. Maduin looked past Sairys to her mate, Ran, a brutally strong Esper. Ran's hatred for humanity was among the strongest of all Espers. His physical might had been attractive to his Magi during the Great War, and Ran had seen and been forced to do things that many believed had forever cost him whatever kindness he might have once had. Many considered it amazing that his and Sairys' love had not dimmed in the centuries of self-imposed exile.

Ran stalked towards them and rested a hand on Maduin's shoulder. Ran's harsh glare didn't change even minutely, but his touch was gentle.

"My friend, you know we cannot live among them," Ran growled, "humans and Espers are incompatible. In giving us life, they revealed their flaws, their imperfections. In us they see everything right in the world, as well as everything wrong with themselves. Humans will destroy us!"

Sairys laid a comforting hand on Ran's arm, and he pulled his hand from Maduin's shoulder. Ran looked deeply into Sairys, and then hunched his shoulders.

"You both always were too soft," Ran said quietly.

Sairys smiled gently at Maduin as the door opened. Immediately, all three bowed respectfully.

Tenteki, the eldest of all Espers, stood in the doorway, leaning casually upon his staff. His words and decisions carried great weight among Espers. It was said that Tenteki had been the first of the Espers formed by the Magi from the raw power of magic. Thus his form was little different from that of humans. His silver hair and short beard were not due to design like with Ramuh, but from true age. Tenteki's face was lined and craggy, and even he bore scars of the Great War, scars that even the magic of the Espers could not heal.

Yet for all his age, perhaps twice that of next eldest Esper, Tenteki could move as spryly as any when he chose, as he did now, stepping lightly towards the other three.

Maduin swallowed hard. Whatever Tenteki decided would likely be followed by the rest of the Espers. Maduin could be honored or made into a pariah by Tenteki's words. The ancient Esper stared hard at all three of the others, and even Ran squirmed under that powerful gaze. Those pure white eyes soon came to rest on Maduin.

"I had heard," Tenteki said slowly, "that there was a human here. I am curious how it is that a human made it so far into the village."

There was a soft smile on Tenteki's face, Maduin knew a Magi had once called it, "grandfatherly." A hint of amusement, a dash of scolding, and the rest of it completely unreadable.

Maduin swallowed again, gesturing to the bed. "I… I believe she wandered here by mistake…"

"Really?" interrupted Tenteki, still smiling.

A sudden groan made all four of them look to the bed, as the girl began to twist and turn. A shaky hand reached up, and the girl looked to see Sairys, who had glided over to the bed at the first sound. Maduin quickly made his way to the other side of the bed, completely forgetting about Tenteki. Slowly, the girl pushed herself into a sitting position with Sairys' help, all the while staring open-mouthed at them all.

Maduin found himself held speechless at the girl's eyes, such a bright shade of green that they almost seemed to be emeralds. Maduin couldn't be sure if any of his fellow Espers had eyes of such a hypnotizing shade. Maduin was so absorbed in her that he never noticed Tenteki ushering Sairys and Ran out of the house.

"I… I apologize," Maduin said uncertainly, watching as she turned to look at him, "Did I wake you?"

The girl shook her head slowly, almost unable to take her eyes off him. He was mostly human in form, though he did possess some bestial qualities, and his skin was the color of dark oak. Then her eyes focused on the ruby pendant that hung around his neck. Her hand reached out tentatively, gently brushing the gem with her fingertips.

Maduin smiled as kindly as he could. He remembered when one of the daughters of his Magi had forged it for him. She could not have been more than six years old at the time, trying out her talents for magic for the first time. Her father had only been slightly disappointed at the pendant's mudane nature, but Maduin could remember his smile when the little girl had given it to the Esper.

"You… you're… an Esper?" the girl before him whispered, and at Maduin's nod, she asked, "What is this? I've never seen anything like that. It's so beautiful."

Maduin followed his instincts, and not what his rational mind was telling him. Without a word he took the pendant from his neck and slipped the silvery-gold chain over her head. She gasped and looked at him with wide eyes.

"I can't…"

"You can." Maduin stared at her, hoping she understood the sincerity in his gaze. "Now, it is yours. This is one of the seals that protects our world."

"The Esper world?" she said wonderingly, "Dear Ancients. Did I take the wrong turn or what?"

She laughed lightly, trying to cheer herself up. Although Maduin didn't understand her comment about the wrong turn, he chuckled with her. He liked the sound of her laughter. But he was worried. So many Espers had seen him bring her here, and with Sairys, Ran and Tenteki outside his home, eventually they would start asking questions and demanding to know what was going on with the human.

"I need to let you know that many of my fellow Espers will not be like me," Maduin warned her, "some will be quite upset. They see you as a human, and will not look past that fact, no matter how near to death you were."

"I… I was so weak," she whispered, remembering the pain and exhaustion, "I didn't think I could go on any further. I thought the cave would be a good place to lay down and die. Then I saw the doors, and I didn't know what they were… and then, then I saw… did you save me?"

Maduin nodded once. "I did. My name is Maduin."

"Madonna."

"Madonna," he agreed, enjoying how her name sounded in his ears.

"Maduin, you said that the other Espers won't like me because I'm human," she said, "but why? I know the Espers were once a part of the world and then left it after the War of the Magi, but why would my being here make them upset?"

He struggled to find the words, and even as he spoke, Maduin knew that he wasn't saying what he wanted to say. "Madonna, like many of my brethren, I grew tired of life in the human world. We were weapons in the hands of the Magi, and fought their wars on their behalf. But we are creations of the world itself, and with every life we took, we diminished ourselves. We came to see that the human world was filled with great and terrible evils; desire, greed, and loathing. It is highly infectious, and even Espers were not immune to the human world's cruelty. The Magi always maintained that we were extraordinarily different creatures, but there are times that I wonder… I wonder if humans and Espers are truly so different as the Magi maintained. Even though most of my brethren feel humans and Espers cannot co-exist, we seem to have so much in common…"

Maduin finally focused his thoughts and looked at Madonna, who looked at him with a hard gaze, her arms firmly crossed over her chest.

"So what you're saying is that I'm an example of all the evil of _my_ world?" she asked, her voice filled with indignation.

"No, that is not what I meant! I only…"

_Ancients_, thought Maduin, _that look is no different than the ones Shiva has given me many times. At least human and Esper women seem more alike than different_.

"I wouldn't want to be a burden, or create problems," Madonna said coldly, then lay back down, turning onto her side facing away from him, "I'll leave here and return to my world first thing in the morning."

Maduin could tell she was awake, he could see she was staring at the wall opposite him. Even when he leaned over to look her in the eye, she seemed to bury herself under the covers. Confusion clouded his features and made thinking difficult. He wanted to offer some kind of reassurance, but he did not know if she would want it, or if it would be taken as another insult. His instincts, his heart told him to speak to Madonna, to apologize and try to explain that his words had only been meant as a warning, not as an accusation. This time, however, it was his brain that chose his response.

Straightening, he turned away from the bed, and his own voice became rough and harsh.

"You will need a guide. I will take you back myself."

* * *

Sleep was not Maduin's friend that night. He kept tossing and turning in his bed, sometimes spending more than an hour staring at the wall or the ceiling. His mind was working furiously, thinking about what he'd felt and thought this past day. He admired Madonna's strength; though she might have seemed frail, the strength of her spirit was remarkable.

_She would have made a fine Magi_, he thought at one point.

He still had no idea what had possessed him to give Madonna his pendant. He had worn that ruby for more than a millennium, and he had once sworn to his Magi's daughter that he would never lose it nor forget her. Maduin wondered if in giving Madonna the pendant he had broken his oath to that little girl. His heart said that he had not, while his mind raised doubts.

Maduin smiled as he realized that his head sounded very much in agreement with Ran. The other Esper had been a loyal friend through the ages, but Maduin could not bring himself to agree with Ran. The War of the Magi had brought out so much fear and anger, Maduin had no desire to add to it. He knew that Madonna was no threat to the Espers or their world; he had felt her innocence even within the cave.

But what would Tenteki say if Maduin insisted that Madonna be free to remain here? What would happen to her? Would any other Espers welcome her? Sairys had been understanding, but that was her typical nature. Had she assumed that Madonna would be sent back to the world once she had recovered her strength? Would Sairys still care for Madonna if she stayed here? Or would Sairys ostracize Madonna like the others would?

Maduin nearly growled in frustration, but refrained from doing so. His Magi had created him with the addition of certain bestial qualities, but Maduin had recognized those qualities as being contrary to his nature, contrary to civilized company, and so even in the silence of his own bedroom, he refused to give into that feral persona.

To calm himself, Maduin thought of Madonna. Her very appearance soothed him; her eyes like gemstones that he hadn't seen since the Great War, her hair like gold. His heart had ached when she'd turned from him, and it had danced when her eyes lit up with amazement and gratitude when Maduin gave her his pendant. He moaned, thinking of how Madonna was planning to return to the human world. Maduin did not wish to remain alone, he had felt so happy to have loved her even just for a moment…

Maduin sat straight up in his bed. What had he been thinking?! Love?! Impossible. They had only spoken for a few minutes, how could he claim to love her? But there it was in his heart; the knowledge, the _certainty_ of what he felt. Slowly, Maduin began to accept the feeling, one that he thought he'd quashed centuries ago. But there it was.

He had fallen in love with Madonna.

"You are mad," he said to himself, but he smiled just the same.

As with all things about the Espers, emotions were far grander and more earth-shaking than what humans could feel. As the living personifications of power, Espers had been created to be greater than human. Stronger, faster, naturally powerful in magic. An unintended side effect had been that the Espers felt emotions with far more raw power than humans. Hatred burned hotter, joy made them sing louder. And in Maduin's case, love would be something he would give until the end of his days for Madonna.

Maduin settled back against his pillows, closing his eyes he smiled. When he awoke to take Madonna to the cave, he would instead take her to Tenteki's home, and beg, on his knees if he had to, for Madonna to be permitted to remain here, with him. And he would profess to her how he felt. Everything would work out come morning.

Sleep finally claimed Maduin in its dreamless embrace.

* * *

"MADUIN!"

Maduin nearly bolted upright in his bed at the sound of his name. He looked around, noting that no one was in his bedroom, therefore, someone must have yelled…

"Maduin!"

This time he leapt from his bed, racing down the stairs. His first thought was that Madonna had called for him, but for a moment Maduin couldn't be sure if he'd ever told Madonna his name. Frantic, he ran for the room where Madonna had been resting. The bed was empty, the sheets were pulled halfway to the door.

"No," he growled.

Maduin turned on his heel and ran outside into the pale sunlight. Sairys was there, speaking frantically to Tenteki, who was leaning on his staff. The elder Esper's face was calm, his eyes gave away nothing of his thoughts. Surrounding Maduin's home were nearly two dozen of his fellow Espers, listening to Sairys' breathless explanations. As soon as Maduin had appeared, however, Tenteki's concentration moved effortlessly from Sairys to Maduin.

"Your human has vanished," Tenteki said without a trace of emotion, but those eyes of his bored straight into Maduin's ancient soul.

"I came to check on her this morning," Sairys said in a rush, "I was sure there would have been some fool thing you'd said to her, no matter what. I wanted to tell her we would welcome her, but she wasn't there when I arrived."

"If she makes it back to the gateway she _will_ tell other humans about us!" growled Ran, "Ramuh has said time and again that they remember our abilities. What if they want to control us once again! They will use our power to fuel armies! This time _will_ result in disaster for the entire world!"

"I cannot imagine how a human in her condition could make it all the way to the gate," Sairys protested. "As close as she was to death yesterday, I am amazed she could get out of the bed."

Kirin stood among the onlookers, and she stamped her hooves in the ground. "Surely the link between our worlds has weakened over the past millennium. Perhaps there is not enough of a connection for this human to return to their world."

"Would you risk our existence on that hope?" Ran demanded of her.

Kirin looked at the ground but did not answer.

Maduin looked at Tenteki, hoping the ancient Esper would give him some advice. As Maduin looked over, however, he realized that Tenteki's gaze had never left him despite the squabbling, bickering debate that had surrounded them.

"Choose, and act."

Those were Tenteki's only words. Maduin knew that the old Esper had been very influenced by an encounter with a group of mercenaries whose power over the lifestream itself had caused them to invite war upon themselves as they defended villages against onslaughts by the armies of the Magi. The men and women of that company had been far more noble than they would have admitted, and by the end of the war nearly all of them had perished to one Magi or another. Tenteki had held them in high esteem, often using one of their central beliefs in his own logic. A being's life consists of their choices, and the consequences of their actions.

Maduin now had to make his choice. In the end, though, Maduin knew there was only one thing for him to do.

He burst into a full run, pushing past the other Espers as he sped for the gate. It was an effort to draw more and more magical energy into himself, granting him ever greater speed, until homes and trees and gardens were only a blur as he sped past.

It was almost no surprise that Yura, at his usual post outside the cave, was forcefully pushed aside in Maduin's haste to get there. Yura's cries of confusion sounded from behind him, but Maduin paid them no mind. There was only one thing he needed to do.

He raced into the cave, knowing that even if Madonna had passed the barrier, then he would follow her. But as he approached the gateway, Maduin knew that crossing into the humans' world would not be necessary.

Madonna was struggling to lift the bar made of heavy starmetal that was holding the mithril doors shut. Maduin almost smiled, it would take more than a dozen humans each twice as strong as Madonna to move that bar. Ran and Ifrit had been forced to do it together, Maduin knew. He watched for several more moments, as Madonna fought with all her might to free the doors.

Eventually, however, Madonna let out a choked sob, and slowly slid to her knees, burying her face in her hands as she cried. Her weeping echoed through the cave, and Maduin felt his heart clench. Everything within his heart yearned to wipe away Madonna's tears and make sure she never again had a reason to cry.

Maduin stepped forward, into the light of the fire orbs that Ifrit had placed the night before, his footsteps much too loud to his ears.

Apparently they were loud enough for Madonna as well, as her head shot up and her eyes fell upon him. She let out a small gasp as her eyes widened on seeing him, then she was furiously rubbing at her face, trying to clear away evidence of her tears.

"What… what are you doing here?" she asked through the remains of her sniffling. Her eyes were red and filled with sadness and shattered hopes. "I… I thought it would… would be best if I left quietly."

"No, it would not be best," replied Maduin in his softest voice. "You have no wish of returning to your world. Therefore, you are welcome here for as long as you desire to stay. No one will bother you, I promise."

His eyes focused on his pendant that seemed to fit Madonna perfectly. She was unconsciously clutching the ruby and looking at Maduin with a slight sense of renewed hope.

"But," she protested, "but… you, you said that… humans and Espers… we can never co-exist…"

Maduin knelt next to her, bringing one hand up to cup Madonna's cheek as he brushed away a stray tear with his thumb. He wanted to know her, Maduin knew. Wanted to know where she'd come from, what kind of life she had lived, and most of all, what had sent her to seek refuge in the Esper world. What did she dread so much in the human world? Why was she so desperate to stay here?

Maduin realized that a portion of his thoughts were based in the suspicious nature that had become a part of the Esper nature since their self-imposed exile. A distrust of humans that never went away, even in the most kind-hearted Espers like Sairys and Kirin.

But most of him just wanted to know because it all made Madonna who she was, and Maduin wanted to know everything about her. Not for the protection of his fellow Espers, but for himself.

He took Madonna's hands in his own and stood up, gently pulling Madonna to her feet. Maduin gently stroked her face, pushing a few strands of golden hair from her eyes.

"It has been nearly a thousand of your years since we forged this world and exiled ourselves here," he told Madonna, "I do not know whether or can or not. Nor will we ever know. How could we… unless we observe for ourselves?"

Maduin gazed into her eyes, wishing that he could see into Madonna's soul and know her feelings, as he wished she could do the same for him. His heart was racing faster than it ever had in battle, and it was so loud to his ears that he wouldn't have been surprised if the echoes could be heard by Yura.

Madonna smiled, and she almost wanted to weep with joy. This was what she had needed from the moment she'd passed the gates. To find someone who could care for her, love her, and who she could love in return. She couldn't understand how her feelings for Maduin had become so strong so fast, all she knew was that she never wanted to let him go.

Slowly, Madonna brought her hand up to touch the ruby pendant, then rested her hand against Maduin's chest.

"You're right," she whispered, almost breathlessly, "we'll never know. Not unless we find out for ourselves."

They both leaned in as though pulled by an irresistible force. Maduin murmured Madonna's name just as their lips pressed together, their arms wrapping around each other. They held the other as though afraid to let go, and every nerve in their bodies came alive as the kiss deepened, even as their sense of anything else in existence faded, leaving only them, and the love they felt for each other.

No words could have described the depths of that love. Words would have been merely half-truths… lies. Some things are greater than the words that can ever be used to describe them.

* * *

Maduin was pacing back and forth in his living room, Ran was watching with a look of amusement. It had been nearly a year since Madonna had come to the Esper world, and it had not been an easy transition. Many Espers had protested against Madonna living here in the Esper world, and Ran had not been the worst of them. Maduin had often felt like a pariah among many who had been his friends since long before the War of the Magi.

Despite pleas to Tenteki from both Maduin and the others who wanted Madonna sent back, the eldest Esper answered none of them for a long time. Sairys had formed a close bond with Madonna, and latter rarely went anywhere unaccompanied by her friend. Sairys had explained to Madonna the reasons for many of the Espers' anger towards her; mostly abuse at the hands of the Magi during the Great War.

Then, one day, while the two of them had been walking through the gardens far from the cave entrance, Tenteki appeared before them without warning. Sairys left at his look, and Tenteki had spent the rest of the afternoon speaking with Madonna. Despite all of Maduin's prying, neither Tenteki nor Madonna had ever revealed what they'd spoken of in the garden. Madonna had been rather solemn and subdued for a day or two afterwards, and no one had seen Tenteki in that time.

But when Tenteki next called a meeting of the Espers, he declared Madonna to be welcome in the Esper world, and for the others to let go of their anger. She was not the one to blame for the horrors they had experienced. The men and women who had brought such pain in the Great War had been dead for a millennium. Much as the humans had moved on, so must the Espers.

From that day forth, most of the Espers had stopped treating Maduin like an outcast. There were still a few holdouts, but they were surly individuals to begin with. The attitudes towards Madonna had improved as well; it was clear that many still did not welcome her, but they treated her with kindness and civility, and Madonna had been able to expand her circle of friends to Kirin, Siren, Shiva, and others.

Some of the Espers had not understood what Madonna's swelling stomach had meant, and more than one had asked Maduin if his human woman was ill. But Maduin knew. His Magi's wife had birthed three children during the years before the Great War, and Maduin knew that the child growing within Madonna was his. The first child of a union between human and Esper.

Even as he heard Madonna's cries in the other room, Maduin could not help but smile. The Magi had adamantly refused to allow any romantic relations between humans and Espers, maintaining that they were two different races and could not be allowed to mate. Maduin had long thought it was one of the growing signs of arrogance among the Magi; the desire to prevent the "human" bloodline from mixing with that of their magical creations.

Maduin suddenly stopped pacing. Madonna's cries had stopped. He turned to the door behind which Shiva and Sairys had volunteered to help in the birthing. Midwives, Maduin remembered the women had been called by humans. Slowly the door opened, revealing Shiva, who smiled at him.

"She's ready for you," Shiva said with a smile.

Maduin hardly glanced at Ran as he raced into the room, missing the grin that passed between his two friends. Madonna lay on the bed, propped up by numerous pillows. She looked exhausted, but as beautiful as ever. Sairys hovered in the air on the far side of the bed, dabbing Madonna's head with a cloth. When Sairys saw Maduin, she smiled and began to make her way out of the room.

"A daughter, Maduin," she said gently, pausing to touch his shoulder, then she joined the others in the front room.

Maduin looked at the squirming bundle in Madonna's arms. He'd seen his Magi's children at their birth, but had never though he would one day be looking at his own. The little girl's hands were already playing with her mother's ruby pendant. Maduin lowered himself onto the bed next to Madonna as gently as he could. He was rewarded with two sets of eyes turning to look at him. One was filled with curiosity, the other with love and happiness.

"Our daughter," whispered Madonna.

"I think I've come up with a name," Maduin said, and when Madonna looked at him again, he continued. "Terra."

"Terra," echoed Madonna, "the earth. The mother of us all, whom we all love. I love it, and so will she. We have the rest of our lives to spend together, Maduin. We have a family."

Maduin nodded, feeling completely content for the first time in a thousand years. "We have all the time in the world, now," he said happily.

* * *

The humans were like an unstoppable wave; one after the other after the other. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of them came streaming through the cave. Crossbows and swords and spears in hand, they swept towards the Esper village.

"HUMANS!" roared Ran, before charging into a squad, arms swinging like a windmill. The humans' mortal bodies weren't built to absorb the power of those blows, and their armor might well have been non-existent. Ran knocked heads from their shoulders; his clawed hands pierced armor, flesh and bone.

Then he was surrounded, soldiers firing a constant barrage of crossbow quarrels. Ran screamed in pain and rage as he fell to his knees. Then fires erupted at the feet of the soldiers, incinerating them as Ifrit appeared from behind one of the buildings.

"My friend!" cried the fiery-skinned Esper, "Get to Kirin, I will hold the humans off."

Ran pushed himself back to his feet. "The nexus between the worlds has fully opened, Ifrit! There is no limit to the humans! You cannot remain here alone!"

"He will not be alone," said Shiva as she took a spot next to her mate. "The humans have come seeking our power. Therefore, I believe we should give it to them. Make them learn first-hand the fury of the power they seek to unleash!"

"Hurry, Ran!" urged Ifrit, "Shiva and I will do what we can here! Find Maduin and Tenteki. Have Maduin organize squads to seek out the humans' leadership. Go, now!"

Ran hurried as fast as his wounded body would move, deeper into the village, doing all he could to avoid teams of humans as they moved through the village. Then he saw a sight that made him freeze.

"No… they have made to the Old One's home," he groaned.

_Get out of there Tenteki_, he thought as he watched the soldiers breaking down the door and climbing in through windows. The sounds of destruction echoed in Ran's ears as he prepared to weep for the first time in millennia. Then there was a flash of blue light and a deafening roar, then the entire house exploded outwards. Ran was knocked back into the house next him by the shockwave. He bounced off the wall and fell to the ground, rolling onto his back with a groan Between that and the injuries he'd already taken, movement was difficult.

"Ran," he heard distantly, then he saw Tenteki's aged face enter his line of sight, and the ancient Esper pulled Ran to his feet with surprising strength.

"Sairys is with Maduin and Madonna," Tenteki told the barely conscious young Esper, "she can help you."

* * *

From the cavern strode a man far older than any that had yet emerged. Surrounding him were two dozen men in blood-red uniforms, their faces covered by blank masks. The man himself was tall, his pale blond hair tied was mostly loose, while some was tied into braids. His beard showed hints of silver, and his black eyes were as cold and hard as obsidian.

His eyes scanned the landscape without pity and without remorse, taking in the burning buildings and the bodies of a few nearby Espers. The sounds of battle from the village reached his ears as a dim roar, bringing back memories of of war.

"My Lord Emperor!" called a young soldier as he fell to one knee, "We have breached the Espers' outer defenses and have penetrated deep into their village. We have killed several, and currently have captured at least four others. What are your orders, Emperor Gestahl?"

Gestahl continued to watch the carnage with that dispassionate, pitiless gaze. "After all this time," he muttered to himself, "we've finally found it. All these centuries the entrance to this world was right under our very noses. Those ancient texts had it right, the power of these beasts is phenomenal. With their power, I _will_ unite the world!

"Continue with the operation," commanded Gestahl, turning back to the young soldier on his knee, "capture as many Espers as possible, kill those which you are unable to take alive. There will be a reward of a 100 gold crowns to any man who captures an Esper. Go!"

"By your command," acknowledged the soldier, who then rose and hurried back towards the village.

"You will be the source of my power," Gestahl said to himself, "I will never need to fear _any_ enemy."

His laughter echoed across the battlefield.

* * *

An explosion of fire and lightning shook the house, and Terra wailed in fear. Madonna cradled her daughter, rocking her backing and forth.

"Shhh. Shhh," she soothed, trying to sound calm, "It's alright… it's alright."

Terra wasn't yet a year old, Madonna thought, and had no right to be put through this kind of terror at such a tender age.

"Your daughter is strong," Tenteki said softly. The ancient Esper leaned on his staff near the fireplace, sounding as calm and seeming to be as all-knowing as if he had been encountered in the gardens.

They were at the home of Ran and Sairys, the latter of whom hovered by the front window and the door. Maduin had been trying to get Madonna and Terra somewhere safe when they had encountered Tenteki half-dragging Ran. The four of them had made it to Sairys, who had used her most powerful healing magic to pull Ran back from the brink of death itself. Then he and Maduin had charged back into the battle, telling the other three to wait for them.

Another explosion sounded, this one further away, and Madonna instantly began calming Terra again.

"How can the soldiers be putting up such a fight?" Madonna asked, looking at Tenteki, "All of the legends say that the Espers have powers beyond normal people. Ran's strength… Sairys' healing… Maduin's powers of fire and lightning…"

"Magic does not work the same here as it does in the real world," explained Tenteki, "Here, we are far removed from the lifestream and the River of Magic. It is hard to explain and harder for you to understand, having never known magic before. But the strain of drawing upon magic for even the simplest of acts is a trial of endurance. Even when successful, we can only draw so much energy. Despite Ran's strength, not all Espers are capable of even approaching similar feats. Rayden is no stronger than an athletic mortal, but his skill as a swordsman has never been matched."

"They should be back by now," commented Sairys, doing her best to cover the shaking in her voice, "I should go…"

"You will stay," Tenteki said firmly, but kindly, "your skills are not those of battle."

Sairys nodded jerkily, then turned to watching the window. She suddenly lurched forward.

"Here they come!" she cried, then rushed to the door and yanked it open. Maduin and Ran burst through, breathing heavily.

Madonna nearly cried. The head of a spear was still deeply embedded in Ran's shoulder, blood trailing down his arm and chest. Maduin was heavily favoring his right leg, and now as he walked, there was a noticeable limp. A shallow sword cut lay across his forehead and a pair of quarrels were still embedded in his stomach. With a growl he ripped the quarrels out and blood flowed freely.

Maduin looked at Madonna, and then down at their daughter.

"She's alright," Madonna told him.

"What is the situation?" asked Tenteki.

Maduin turned to regard him. "Soldiers have broken through every line we've tried to set up. It's a chase now, street by street, house by house. Some are trying to lead the soldiers back towards the cave, but there's another 200 soldiers there, at least."

"Killing us doesn't seem to be their goal," Ran put in, grimacing as Sairys removed the spearhead from his shoulder, "they're taking prisoners, as many as they can. Ifrit and Shiva have been taken. Ramuh, as well."

"I saw Kirin and Stray unconscious, being dragged towards the cave," agreed Maduin, nodding, "but what do they want with us?"

"Magitek," said Tenteki simply.

The air in the room seemed to go very still. Madonna didn't know what to make of it.

"What's Magitek?" she asked.

"During the Great War, the Magi realized that they had essentially made us living generators of magical energy," explained Sairys, "and the Magi knew that we were theirs to control. So they often used Espers, draining small amounts of power to bestow upon their most trusted men-at-arms, giving them the power of Esper blood. Even machines could be powered by an Esper. But there was a catch; the draining of this power sapped the Esper of their life force, weakening the Esper, sometimes almost to the point of death. In those days, the Magi realized what was happening, and didn't use Magitek too much, the cost wasn't worth the benefit, because Espers were always more powerful than any number of machines or Magitek Knights."

Maduin nodded. "But according to Ramuh, humans have forsaken magic. And without us around, there are no creatures that could match an army of Magitek Knights. If these humans can capture enough of us…"

"We will be the fuel for their army," Tenteki finished sadly.

"Soldiers will be arriving here soon!" growled Ran, "Maduin and I cannot hold them off forever. Eventually they will overwhelm us with their numbers!"

Tenteki sighed and stared at the ground. "Then there is no choice left. It is time to do what should have been done long ago."

The other three Espers stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"You cannot mean…" began Sairys.

"The dimensional barrier?" finished Maduin, "But… Eldest…"

Tenteki looked up at the rest of them, smiling gently. "Do not worry, young ones. I shall create a violent tempest that will sweep these dangerous humans from our realm. Then I shall draw upon the sacred seals and close the barrier between our worlds forever. I am last of our people who has the knowledge of raising the barrier, so we must not delay."

"But there are soldiers everywhere," protested Ran.

"I will take care of them on my way to the High Circle," replied Tenteki gently.

"But… Eldest… Tenteki," said Maduin, "to summon that much magical power… to channel it… with what you have done already today, you might…"

"Pass into the lifestream?" finished the old Esper, his face glowing with that wise smile that had guided all Espers for more than 3000 years, "Yes, I do not doubt that I will. Do not weep for me, young ones. It is the way of all life; all things that are born must die. I have lived a long time, and I am glad that my passing shall bring safety to our people."

"But what will we do?" pleaded Sairys, "How will we live without your guidance?"

"You will live as you have always lived," was Tenteki's answer, "you will make choices in life, and you will live with the consequences, for good or for ill. This… is _my_ choice."

Maduin turned to Madonna, trying his best to hold back tears, knowing that the mentor of all Espers would be no more after today. But he looked to Madonna, knowing that with the barrier in place, she would never return to the world of humans. She returned his gaze steadily, understanding the questioning look in his eye.

She straightened her back and held her head high.

"I for one will not miss the other side," she told them all firmly. Maduin could only gaze at the love of his life with pride and awe as she showed more courage than the three other Espers combined.

"Live free, my young friends," said Tenteki, and then without another world, he slipped out of the house with surprising speed.

All four of them were silent for a few moments, thinking about what was about to happen; to themselves, to the Esper world, and to Tenteki. Their silence was interrupted when Ran let loose with a predatory howl.

The others turned to him, only to see Ran glaring angrily at Madonna.

"This is all because of your _human_ girl, Maduin!" Ran seethed, "None of this would have happened if she'd just died before reaching here!"

Madonna turned white, and her breathing hitched for a few moments as her arms tightened around Terra. Maduin strode over to Madonna, placing a hand on her shoulder as he faced Ran.

"That's nonsense, Ran," protested Maduin, "and you know it. Madonna is as much a victim as the rest of us."

Despite Sairys taking a gentle hold of her mate's arm, Ran ignored her and focused his rage on Maduin.

"Do you _know_ where she is all the time?!" Ran demanded, "I don't! I'm _certain_ she helped these soldiers find us."

Maduin's face was creased with worry. Ran had been bitter towards humanity since the Great War. Maduin had hoped that over the passing centuries his friend's hatred had simmered down, but now Maduin saw that, if anything, Ran's hatred had grown.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Maduin shot back, "You are an Esper! What would Eldest say if he were here now?! Madonna is one of us and has been for nearly two years! Any of the guards at the cave would have stopped her!"

"NO! She's one of them!" Ran yelled, "Monsters! With no more humanity than us! Mark my words! Soon she'll be wearing hides!"

Madonna screamed in anguish, holding Terra tight against her chest, and rushed out the door before any of them could react.

Sairys smacked Ran across the face, and the large Esper seemed to calm down, then a look of horror spread across his features.

"Maduin… I'm sorry, I didn't…"

But Maduin didn't hear the words, he only rushed past both Ran and Sairys. He had to get to Madonna before any of the soldiers did. The moment he made it outside he was slammed by gale force winds that nearly knocked him down. He could see other Espers fighting their way through the wind, barely making it to homes where they took shelter.

The humans had nowhere near the fortitude of Espers, and were unable to hold their footing or maintain their grip on posts or the ground against the tempest. Maduin looked on in amazement.

Tenteki stood atop the ring of stones that had always been known as the High Circle. Only the Espers who had fashioned this separate world had known the Circle's function, and Tenteki was the last of them. The Eldest of the Espers glowed with power, shining like a miniature sun as his robes snapped and roiled in the ceaseless gale. The old Esper's eyes never wavered from staring at the gate, his hands raised above his head held a sphere of pulsing blue energy.

Maduin looked towards the cave; humans flew through the air towards it. Maduin started in that direction.

"Young one," came Tenteki's voice, still deep and calm, though it sounded as if it came from every direction at once, "where are you going?"

"Madonna ran from the house! She is likely being drawn into the human world!" Maduin yelled, hoping he could be heard above the winds.

"Forsake a life, or forsake a world," Tenteki said, "for there is no other choice to make. The enchantment to raise the barrier has begun, there is no turning back. Make your choice, young Maduin."

Maduin stared at the cave for a long moment. A life, or a world? What had Tenteki meant? His life? Madonna's? Terra's? Which world? The Esper world or the real one?

_I cannot leave them_, Maduin thought, _I cannot lose the two people I love most! Somehow I must get them back!_

"Ancients but you are a fool," Maduin cursed to himself, then he relaxed his pose and allowed the tempest to gather him and carry him towards the cave. He flew off the ground, moving faster than he'd thought he would, driven towards the cave entrance. His path brought him directly into the mouth of the cave, grunting in the darkness as he bounced off the rough stone walls.

Suddenly the winds died to almost nothing, and Maduin felt himself tumble to the ground. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath.

_The winds must have only been the first step_, he realized, _Tenteki must be preparing to seal the gate now_.

Torches flared ahead of him, and Maduin forced himself to his feet. Only a few dozen yards from the gate lay nearly a hundred soldiers, and in their center stood a man who Maduin would have sworn looked like a Magi; loose, silvery-blond hair and a thick beard wearing elaborate robes.

Between the soldiers and Maduin lay Madonna. She was motionless and Terra was silent.

_No!_ raged Maduin, _I cannot lose them! Not now!_

"My lord Emperor, look what followed us!" cried one of the soldiers, pointing at Madonna, and then to Maduin.

Energy gathered, and Maduin realized he had no time left to think. He charged forward, pulling the last of the magical power he could manage into himself for greater speed. Vast power suddenly began pulling all of them towards the gate. Maduin grabbed a hold of Madonna and Terra, scooping them up into his arms and pulling them to the wall. One by one and in groups, the soldiers lost their grips and found themselves hurled through the gate.

The bearded man was the last to lose his hold on the rocks before him.

"NOOO!" he screamed, "Not when we were so close! Just as we were in reach…!"

His voice faded as the massive mithril doors began to close.

Maduin held Madonna to him as tightly as he could, Terra between them. His grip on the rocks waxed and waned as he realized his strength was beginning to fail. Even the might of an Esper could only last for so long. If the doors didn't start to close faster…

"Maduin," came Madonna's whispered moan, "I… I'm not their friend."

He turned his head to look at her. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her look was one of desperation. He smiled, and hoped Madonna could read his love for her in his eyes.

"I know that," he told her, "I never doubted you. I love you."

Madonna's look became one of gratitude, then she grimaced in pain. The power drawing them towards the gate was growing stronger, if that was possible.

"We have to move," Maduin told her, "the power should lessen as we get further from the gate. Can you make it?"

Madonna shifted so that Terra was clutched in one arm, then she let Maduin encase her smaller hand in his. Maduin pushed away from his little nook, out into the full power of the suction. Step by step he pulled Madonna and Terra away from the gate. He gritted his teeth and refused to look back, afraid that Madonna might see the pain and desperation on his face. Every bone felt as though it was about to break, every mucle wanted to tear.

Maduin also feared to see the same look on Madonna's face.

"TERRA!" shrieked Madonna.

Maduin's head snapped around to see his daughter sailing through the air to hurtle through the gate. Without another word Madonna tore herself from Maduin's grasp, lettering herself be blown through the gate as well, vanishing from his sight.

"No! Madonna!"

Maduin couldn't live alone, not again. Not after having known love; for Madonna, and for Terra. Death was preferable to solitude. He relaxed, and allowed himself to be blown along, passing through the doors just moments before they closed. Even with wind howling in his ears, Maduin could hear the clang of the doors as they shut with a sense of finality.

The first thing Maduin felt was… cold. He had forgotten what it was like to feel warm air or cold, for the Esper world had always had a spring warmth. He forced his eyes open to see himself outside the cave, a sparse forest came right up to the side of the cliff, but a long trail of cleared trees led off to the west.

For a brief moment, Maduin remembered his first sight of the cave. The trees had sung a mourning dirge as Esper after Esper had passed them into the darkness of the cave. Even Siren, who had never refused to join other beings in song, remained silent as she had passed beneath the branches.

"Madonna," moaned Maduin, seeing his beloved laying not far from himself. Madonna lay within a small thicket of bushes, concealed by shadows. She looked weak, but she held Terra gently. Suddenly there was a great bustle about him, and Maduin found his arms suddenly shackled.

He growled in rage, preparing to roast these soldiers about him with fire and blast them with lightning. He could feel magic all about him, making Maduin feel more alive than he had in centuries. He reached out for that sweet power…

But nothing happened. Fires didn't burn, lightning didn't strike the soldiers. He grunted as he was roughly hauled to his feet, and Maduin could barely gasp at the knowledge that his strength was little more than human. What had they done to him?

"My lord Emperor, are you all right?" cried one of the soldiers, helping the bearded man to his feet. The Emperor roughly brushed dirt and twigs from his robes, his black eyes burned with anger.

"How many did we get?"

Silence answered him.

"Captain! Answer me!" he demanded.

"Perhaps a dozen, lord Emperor," trembled the man, looking between the Emperor and Maduin.

"The gate is sealed now, from _their_ side," muttered the Emperor, "a dozen will have to do until we can figure out how to re-open it. Take the Espers back to the Research Facility. Cid can begin to study them."

Maduin felt himself pulled along, his eyes never leaving Madonna, crawling out of the bushes. As he found himself being dragged between Siren and Ramuh, Maduin let out a roar of pain and rage.

* * *

Soldiers shivered at the sound of the Esper's roar, but Gestahl's attention had been drawn to movement, a woman crawling out of the bushes. He walked over, followed by his personal guard. In the woman's hands was a small bundle. As he approached, Gestahl saw the tufts of green hair, and realized that the bundle he saw was a child.

The crawling woman did not see them approach, and she nearly jumped at his voice.

"A human girl?"

Madonna looked before her, seeing a figure she'd hope to go the rest of her life avoiding.

"Gestahl?!" she gasped, pulling Terra closer to her.

The Emperor of Vector looked at the woman huddled on the ground before him. Something about her, something sparked a memory… ahh yes, there it was.

Gestahl smiled, a gesture that never reached his eyes.

"Ah, Madonna, isn't it?" he said to her, "So this is where you ended up. Separating from the rest of your conspirators? Wise move. Hiding in the Esper world? I would deem that brilliant. Ahh, but I had sworn I would find all of you, and make each conspirator pay for their crimes. Fate can be a kind, if fickle, ally."

"Our crimes?" echoed Madonna, "Since when did fighting for freedom become a crime?"

"Don't speak to _me_ of fighting for freedom!" snarled Gestahl, "You were barely old enough to kiss a boy while I was protecting our people from the Urthmen! You religious zealots thought to murder me. Plunge Vector, the southern continent, and whole world back into chaos! I will set the world aright. I will bring law where their chaos, order where there is barbarism! You know nothing of what it is to fight for your life. The members of your order refused to fight even when the Urthmen smashed against the walls of Vector!"

"Violence serves no one!" Madonna spat back, "Except tyrants. Go ahead, take me away, put me in your dungeons, I will spit on you until my dying day."

Gestahl smiled maliciously, seeing his soldiers shifting their weapons. "Oh, you can spit until your dying day. It is not far off. Then you can join the rest of your conspirators."

"My…" Madonna's face turned white, and her stomach knotted until she thought it might pull her whole chest inside-out, "What have you done with them?"

"They have joined the spirits they worshipped so dearly," sneered Gestahl, "each and every one of them."

"My brother," gasped Madonna, "his wife, she was pregnant…"

"And gave birth to a beautiful baby girl," was Gestahl's answer, "just days before my Dragonstorm troops caught up with that group. Little Celes is almost a year old. It is ironic, don't you think, that a child of an attempted usurper become my most loyal soldier? I will have her raised as the perfect soldier, loyal to none but me, to question no orders. I will be your niece's entire _life_!"

That was when Gestahl's eyes focused on the child Madonna held. She held the baby tighter.

"Please," she begged, "please don't hurt my baby Terra."

"Your…" echoed Gestahl, then he looked between the child and Madonna, then looked over his shoulder at the direction the Espers had gone, "Terra…? Your child…"

Gestahl's pensive look shifted into a smile, and his eyes lit up with dark joy. "Your child is half _Esper_, isn't she? Fascinating. The power of the Espers flows through her with the appearance of a human. She could be the key… she could provide us the power to realize my dream faster than ever."

"No!" screamed Madonna, "You won't take her. I won't let you."

Gestahl looked around at his guards and chuckled, but there was no humor in his words. "I don't really think you can stop me, my dear."

Madonna's face firmed, and she glared at Gestahl with all the fury she could manage. Slowly, she pulled the ruby amulet from around her neck, holding the gem in one hand before her and the child. "I vow Gestahl, here, today, that my daughter will _never_ agree to serve you!"

The ruby suddenly glowed with light, and Gestahl's eyes widened.

"Kill her!" he ordered, "Kill her now!"

A quartet of spears surged forward without hesitation, piercing Madonna from all directions. As she screamed, Madonna managed to drape the glowing gem around Terra's neck, making the child glow for an instant as Madonna collapsed, her features contorted in a mask of pain. Terra let out a wail even as her mother's last act was to cushion her daughter.

"Fool!" Gestahl hissed at himself, "How could you have forgotten the power of their order's vows?!"

"Power, my lord Emperor?" asked the soldier beside him.

"Their order took several vows, and their rewarded gift was that those vows could never be broken, not by them nor anyone else," Gestahl explained, wondering why he was doing so even as he knelt down to pick up the wide-eyed child. "This girl… this child… she will never agree to join the Empire. No matter what we teach her, train her to be, or threaten her with, she will never serve the Empire."

Gestahl stared at the child for several moments. Then turned and began walking back towards their transports.

"Send a message by pigeon to Professor Cid," he ordered, "tell him that I want him to immediately begin work on a device to control a person completely. Tell him we have a prisoner that _must_ fight for us, but will never willingly do so. Tell him the prisoner has a great deal of power. I need something. I don't care if it takes him twenty years!

Two soldiers rushed ahead to obey, and Gestahl smiled down at Terra.

"We will own this world, my dear," he whispered to the little child, "and you are the key to this world. You will be the instrument of my will, whether you want to be, or not."


	24. Chapter 22: Riven

Ages come and go, but eventually updates do occur. Shocking though they may be. I have multiple excuses for taking so long to update, but I won't bother with them. Those who have been following this story know it take me a long time to get out new chapters, which is why I give you nearly 20 pages (single-spaced) of work. Thank you for your loyalty to my story, and I will not allow this story to die. Please keep reviews coming, they honestly do help me keep working. Once again, thank you… and enjoy.

* * *

"So your mother was human but your father was an Esper?" Locke said, his voice incredulous. It was one of those things that no one would believe under most circumstances.

Terra nodded slowly. "Maduin. That was my father's name."

She stared at her hands. As she had told the others what she had been able to piece together from the disjointed images, feelings and voices that had flowed into her while she held the Magicite shard, her body had slowly returned to normal; pale skin and jade-green hair. What she had seen was hardly clear, and she could only tell the others a little. She had been born in the Esper world, her father, her mother, flying from the Esper world to the real one, Gestahl killing her mother. No more than that.

"Can you remember anything more of your mother?" asked Edgar.

Terra frowned and shook her head. "Not really. I can tell that she'd been trying to run from something. She'd been afraid of Gestahl. I don't know why."

"Twenty years ago," murmured Edgar, "not many people feared the new Emperor. He was still a legend because of the Urthmen War. Imperial aggression and cruelty was still another… eight years off."

"There's another thing," commented Sabin, staring thoughtfully at the bed, though it was clear he wasn't seeing it all. "Why would Gestahl have needed the Slave Crown with you?"

"What doest thou mean, Sir Sabin?" asked Cyan.

Sabin looked up briefly, but he dropped his eyes and continued concentrating on his thoughts. "Terra and Celes are about the same age. He was able to raise Celes to almost completely loyal to him, trained her as a soldier and a general. Why didn't he do the same with Terra? From you told us, Terra, you couldn't have been more than a year or two old when Gestahl took you from your mother."

Terra nodded in silent agreement. "I can remember… I can remember Imperial officers _trying_ to train me, teaching me to be loyal to Gestahl. But I never wanted to be. Something always made me fight them. I never liked Gestahl, no matter how nice he would be to me the times I saw him, like there was something within me that refused to help him. I was at least ten years old, maybe closer to twelve when Kefka first put the Slave Crown on me."

"Wait a minute!" cried Edgar, "I remember now! Matron taught us, remember Sabin?"

Sabin shrugged and shook his head.

Edgar chuckled. "And Mom and Dad thought _you_ were the studious one. There was a religious order back around that time. Pacifists. I can't remember what they were called. They refused to even fight against the Urthmen. Not long after Gestahl declared himself Emperor and his intention to unite the world under one banner, they tried to have him killed."

"I thought you said they were pacifists," commented Setzer.

Edgar shrugged. "Ideals change with circumstances. They considered that it was worth it to try and stop a tyrant. They failed, obviously, and Gestahl swore he would hunt them down. The order had no support anywhere on the continent. Like I said, Gestahl was still hailed as a hero at that time. So they fled, scattered in every direction. But from what Matron taught us, every single member of the order was found and killed."

"The timing matches," agreed Cyan, "I do remember thou order, though I too forget their name. No tear wouldst have been shed on their behalf. They didst cower behind the walls of Vector, uttering prayers even whilst children were dying in defense of the city. It was believed that thou order's vows had power. If Terra's mother didst vow that Terra would never serve Gestahl…"

"You mean the vow of Terra's mother could have made it so that Terra would always resist Gestahl?" Locke asked in amazement.

"Religion can be a powerful force," commented Sabin, "coupled with devotion and piety, and the vow of a truly pious person can have great power. It wouldn't surprise me. The love of a mother for her daughter, the desire to protect her… I don't think there are many forces more powerful than that."

"Professor Cid must have been experimenting with a crude form of the Magitek infusion process on Kefka," mused Setzer, "but it is obvious the process was flawed. Once Gestahl had Terra, he was able to refine the process and perfect it for the lovely Celes."

"So Celes gained her power at the expense of an Esper," Locked muttered quietly, his voice flat.

"But mine are inborn," Terra said, her voice sounding more sure and confident, "I finally understand. I finally remember who I am, where I come from. This power is not some strange thing that I know nothing about… it is a part of me. I am the bridge between human and Esper, proof that we're not as different as we've always thought."

"They are an empire of murderers," growled Sabin, "we can't let them get away with this!"

"Let's not go off half-insane, Sabin," Edgar admonished. "Let's go back to Narshe and talk to Banon, we need his insight."

Locke and Cyan nodded in agreement.

"Gau gonna be cold," said the boy with a frown.

Setzer laughed and swept a flourishing bow. "My airship awaits, m'lords!" he announced.

"An airship?" said Terra in amazement, her eyes wide, "What are we waiting for?"

She yanked the sheets off of herself and leapt from the bed, her smile lighting up the entire room. As they made their ways to the doors, Terra couldn't help but look at each of her companions in turn. They had come for her. They had braved dangers that she couldn't even imagine… for her.

_Is this what it means to be loved?_ she wondered, _This warmth, this comfort, this sense of safety? I hope it is, because I like it._

* * *

Terra couldn't help but stare wide-eyed as she passed through the _Blackjack_. It was impossible not to gawk at both the technological advancement of the ship, but also at the wealth and finery that occupied every niche. Even Figaro Castle hadn't been this ornate. Crewmen stared at her as she walked past, some with amazement, some with appreciation.

Setzer led them back to his private dining hall while Janson gave orders to the crew for take off. The ride was a little rocky until the _Blackjack_ pulled above the low clouds on its journey north.

Terra listened in amazement as the others told her, in disjointed pieces, of what had happened since Kefka's invasion of Narshe. Gau kept interrupting by climbing onto the table and on the backs of chairs, and every time Terra looked upset at some part of the events, several of them would ask if she was all right. Upon Setzer's introduction, he swept a bow and pressed a kiss to Terra's hand. Edgar looked on scornfully.

"Who does that fop think he is?" he muttered, "I'm the ladies' man. Remind me to make a new proclamation when we get home, Sabin. No one may be a smoother ladies' man than me."

Sabin only chuckled. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he noticed Locke slip away from the room. Without a word, he followed.

* * *

Locke was surprised to realize that the sun had fallen below the horizon. Setzer's crew moved with grace and certainty, knowing this ship better than anyone could ever hope to. Dodging the crew, Locke made his way over to the railing and stared at the deep red sky.

He sighed deeply. He'd kept his promise, sticking with Terra as she recovered her memory. Locke knew he should be happy; he hadn't failed this time. He'd brought back the key to Terra's memory, gave her back her life. But the costs…

Gestahl would come after them, and even if he didn't, Kefka would. The man was insane; what Locke had seen of the Imperial general in the Magitek Research Facility had been more than enough to convince Locke that Kefka was mad. With Doma annihilated and Figaro under Imperial siege, there was no one who could stop the army that Kefka would likely lead into the north.

Locke sighed again. Fortune had smiled on them, getting the use of the world's only airship and bringing Terra back to them, but surely their luck couldn't hold. He didn't need Setzer's skill with the cards to know that. The Returners were still vastly outnumbered, and with the Magitek advantage Gestahl held, there was no way the Returners could match the Empire force-on-force. If Kefka brought an army north, they wouldn't be able to keep running and hiding any more, either.

Locke closed his eyes and tried to rub away his headache. Part of him wanted the headache to be permanent, maybe then he would be able to ignore an even greater pain in his heart. He'd yearned for Celes to be with them every hour since their escape. There was no time to search for her, if it was even possible. They'd left her in the dark and ugly heart of Vector. Locke still couldn't shake that feeling that she'd been working for the Empire the whole time, just as he couldn't rid himself of the guilt of turning away from her like he had. He wanted her back, wanted to know the truth, _needed_ to know the truth…

"You look tired," said a voice.

Locke spun around, seeing Sabin lounging against the mast. After a moment, Sabin pushed himself upright and walked over, joining Locke at the railing. The two men stood there silently for several moments.

"I meant what I said," Sabin commented after a while, "you look tired. How long has it been since you slept?"

"A while," Locke admitted. He hadn't told anyone that his last decent night of sleep had been at Figaro Castle, before Kefka's attack. Since then there had been any number of distractions, interferences, nightmares and memories. And the previous night he'd sat by the window of his cabin all night, staring out across the moonlit clouds, thinking about Celes…

Sabin watched his brother's oldest friend out of the corner of his eye. He knew what Locke was thinking about. One of the few things Sabin had always prided himself on was his ability to read people. It was one of those traits that had been useful as a young prince. Edgar had the same knack, but he'd become well aware of its use in his dalliances with Figaro's various noble ladies and merchants' daughters.

"Don't obsess over it," he told Locke, "Celes had her reasons for what she did. All we can do is respect her choices. Let it keep eating away at you and you'll soon find nothing of yourself left. We'll find her again, Locke, I know we will."

Locke stared at his hands, not daring to meet Sabin's gaze. "I saw you. In the research facility. Supporting her. I've seen you since we left. Still supporting her."

Sabin knew some kind of explosion was coming. He could see Locke's shoulders almost quivering. Sabin almost grimaced. He knew it was coming, but he didn't know enough about talking to people to know how to guide it, or lessen it. So instead Sabin chose to dive into the heart of it.

"I don't believe she betrayed us," he said as gently as he could, "Edgar asked the same thing and I'll give you the same answer. Until I am shown concrete proof to the contrary, I refuse to believe that anything Kefka told us is true."

"I heard you in Zozo, how you wanted her," Locke went on, not seeming to hear Sabin, "how I wasn't going to be good enough for her."

This time Sabin did grimace. The fight against Dadaluma and being stabbed with the shadowstone was not his proudest moment. The release of the darkest elements of his nature was not something he wanted to think about.

"Everyone has evil thoughts within them," Sabin replied, holding his hands tightly to prevent himself from wiping them nervously, "I already apologized to Celes about that. I should have apologized to you too. I'm sorry."

"Don't lie to me!" roared Locke. Sabin's eyes narrowed, and several members of the crew looked at them for a moment, then went back to their business, doing everything possible to ignore the two Returners.

"You loved her, didn't you!" Locke went on, "You wanted her for yourself! That's why you were always at her side, always trying to stay with her!"

"I stayed with her because I was her friend," Sabin said in a low growl, trying to keep his own anger in check.

"You thought I wasn't good enough for her! Only the great Blitz Master could have a chance with Celes! She was too good for a lowly _thief_!" Locke snarled the last word, "You didn't care that some of us cared about her too! And of course, the _great Blitz Master_ could _never_ be wrong about a person! Of course Celes could never betray _you_! The rest of us sure, but not you!"

"I don't believe she betrayed us," Sabin repeated, his voice tight and under tenuous control, "but some of us surely betrayed her."

Locke's fist slammed into Sabin's face. The taller man hardly budged, wiping away the trickle of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth.

"For love the Ancients, Sabin, stay the bloody hell away from me," growled Locke, then stormed off, his face set in an angry scowl.

Sabin looked out over the mountains below them, his hands gripping the railing so hard that if he'd considered it, he would have worried about snapping it. His mouth was a thin line and his eyes now held within them a storm's fury. Crewmen hurried past on tiptoe, not even daring to breathe for fear of attracting the attention of the Ironhand.

Sabin tried breathing exercises, he tried releasing his anger into the lifestream, but still his anger remained. Locke had no right to make those accusations, no right at all. The words he'd said in Zozo had been emotions released by the shadowstone. And so what if he believed Celes? Was that such a bad thing?

Anger soon gave way to despair, and Sabin hung his head in shame.

_You were wrong, Master,_ he thought, _you were wrong to pick me as your heir. I'm not worthy of following your path. How can you expect me to help protect the world, when I can't even help a friend? You should have let me die on that mountain._

"Sabin?" said a soft voice.

He schooled his features to calm, then slowly turned around. Terra stood there, watching him. For a moment, it seemed as though she was looking straight through all of his discipline and self-control. He almost shivered.

Instead, Sabin gave her a warm smile. "Hey. It's good to see you up and about again, have a good nap?"

Terra's smile warmed him, and his own instantly became more genuine. She came up and joined him at the railing, her smile fading and her eyes becoming serious.

"Edgar and Cyan told me a little about what you had all gone through to find me," she said quietly, "but I know Edgar likes to exaggerate and Cyan puts a… dour… spin on things. What happened, Sabin? I need you to tell me. But before you do that, I need to see the scar."

Sabin couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine. Terra's eyes were at once firm, sad, and sympathetic. He shook his head.

"It's nothing," he told her, "I made my choice to come for you and I would not change it if I had another chance. Don't take the guilt on your shoulders, there's more than enough on them."

Terra's mouth became firm, and her voice held no uncertainty. "I _need_ to see it."

Sabin knew that tone of voice. He'd heard Matron use it on his father, and heard Myra use it on Duncan. No matter how much his father or Duncan had protested or complained or fought, in the end they'd always done what they were told. Sabin figured it would be wiser to avoid fighting with Terra on this one.

_Pick your battles, Sabin_, he'd once been told by Duncan, after the martial arts master had quietly acquiesced to his wife's demand to come into South Figaro for a holiday.

Slowly, he pulled up the corner of his shirt, revealing the black line that pulsed with a life of its own. Terra's hand reached out and touched it. Icy coldness penetrated her fingers and shot up her whole arm, making her want to draw back as if she'd touched a viper, but she forced her hand to remain there.

"You don't deserve this," she said quietly.

"I made my choice," Sabin insisted, "and I would suffer a hundred injuries like it before I would make a different choice."

"I'll fix this," Terra said quietly, shaking her head. Then her eyes lifted to meet Sabin's. "I promise you, one day I'll fix this."

Sabin only smiled.

"What happened, Sabin," she asked again.

Gently, Sabin began to tell her everything that had happened since leaving Narshe. The suspicion of Celes, the journey to Kohlingen and Jidoor and Zozo. Traveling with Shadow. The battles against the Slam Dancers and Dadaluma in Zozo, the events at the Opera House. The journey to Vector and what had happened in the Magitek Research Facility.

The moon was shining brightly by the time he finished. More than once, Terra had been at the point of tears, but she held them in, listening and making a comment here and there when Edgar or Cyan had given her a slightly different version.

"And Celes?" asked Terra, "None of the others would tell me exactly what happened."

Sabin took a deep breath, dreading this part of the tale. "In the research facility, just as we were about to leave with the Magicite, Kefka arrived. He said that Celes had betrayed us, that she was still loyal to the Empire, and had led us into a trap."

Terra choked back a gasp. "Did she?" she asked quietly.

Sabin shook his head. "I don't know. The others believe she did, but… Kefka's a liar and a madman, and Celes protected us with her magic. I don't think she betrayed us… no, I _know_ she didn't betray us. In her heart, she's a good person."

"I know she is," murmured Terra, "we only spoke for a few minutes, but I felt like I'd known her all my life. I want her to be okay. Are you okay?"

"Me?" Sabin asked in surprise. He had no idea what had brought that question on, he knew his face would have fooled Setzer on the far side of a poker table. "Nothing's wrong with me, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

Terra's eyes told him she didn't believe a word of it. "When I saw Locke storm off, a few of the comments Edgar and Cyan had made began to make sense. Especially now that I know you don't believe Celes betrayed you. You're standing alone against them aren't you?"

"There's a little more to it than just that," Sabin told her, surprising himself at the admission. "A few things happened in Zozo, some words were spoken that never should have been. There's a rift between Locke and myself right now, and I can't tell when, if ever, it will close."

Terra was silent for several moments, simply looking at him. Sabin felt a bit uncomfortable under that shining green gaze, so he smiled and turned back to look out over the railing, watching the land as it slipped by beneath their feet.

"Was Cyan telling me the truth?" she asked suddenly.

Sabin glanced at her. "About what?"

"About the power of the Blitz. Could you really feel me?" Terra asked.

"Your pain resonated through the lifestream," Sabin answered with a shrug, "I could feel that pain due to your nature as half-Esper. I thought there was something odd when we saw that Esper in Narshe, then again when we met Ramuh in Zozo. The short answer is yes; I was able to sense the pain and agony you felt."

Terra looked up into Sabin's eyes for several moments. Neither of them said anything, but Terra's eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

"Sabin?" she said tentatively, "Hold me?"

Without a word and without hesitation, the martial artist's thick arms encircled her, pulling her close to his chest. Terra wrapped her arms around him, trying to hold onto anything solid and certain. Terra had always felt safer around Sabin since she'd met him. The tears began to fall; for her mother and father, for Celes, for Sabin, for Locke and the others, for all the people who'd already been hurt and who would be hurt in the future.

_Please Ancients_, she begged and prayed, _please father, please give us the strength to go on. Let us have the strength to stay together and face the trials we'll have to. Protect us. Please father, I beg you. Don't let this war tear us apart. They're all I have._

* * *

Arvis' mouth hung agape and Banon stroked his beard thoughtfully. Elder Kendrik tried to speak, but no sound came out. The _Blackjack_ had landed in the snow just outside of Narshe. The guards at the gate, more than 30 of them, had stepped aside with respectful bows as they had approached.

Although the Marshal-Captain had glared at Terra and Locke, he had told them that they were expected at the home of Elder Kendrik. He, Banon and Arvis had been waiting inside, with maps, charts and books strewn about haphazardly. They had welcomed the young heroes warmly, then listened as Locke gave a detailed accounting of the events since they'd left. All three were good listeners and kept their questions limited, usually only to clarify something.

Then it was Terra's turn, and she left out nothing of what she'd seen and felt upon being awoken by the Magicite of her father, Maduin. She told them of her certainty that she was the child of a union between a human and an Esper.

"I should have stopped Gestahl when I had the chance," Banon muttered, "I should have been prepared for this obsession."

Elder Kendrik shook his head. "Banon, you were a brilliant general and an organizer without peer, but you were not and are not as all-knowing as you think you should be. Gestahl was still a good man when you last parted, you had no way of knowing how far he would fall in pursuit of his obsession."

Banon nodded sullenly. Then his face firmed and he straightened. "This is no time to consider old mistakes. We have too many critical items to discuss."

He pulled out one of the maps from underneath the pile. It was a map of the world that covered the entire table. Major cities and towns were clearly marked. Doma had been crossed out, and South Figaro was circled in red ink.

"With the loss of Doma, we took a hard hit," Banon explained, "King Gareth was a strong supporter of the Returners in terms of funds and equipment. We managed to salvage the majority of our stores from Mt. Kolts, but our forces are slow in getting here to Narshe. I doubt that all of them have even yet received the coded summons. We've lost all elements of strategic surprise; Gestahl knows we're after him. He has the advantage of numbers, equipment and most importantly, logistics. Any war we wage against him has to be fought in the southern continent, and we don't have much in the way of allies down there. Maranda no doubt has a lot of people who would be loyal, not many of them have forgiven Gestahl for sending Celes to invade and conquer the city."

He eyed the younger people, but none of them met his gaze. Locke had very specifically avoided any mention of Celes during his explanation. Banon found that curious, but suspected something painful had happened. He wouldn't pry, when the others were ready to tell him, they would. He also trusted that they wouldn't leave it out if it was important.

"We'll have an advantage that Gestahl doesn't expect," Edgar commented, "I can offer Figaran technology. My castle is still free, but it doesn't have the facilities to mass-produce equipment for the Returners. But Narshe has the capability. I can provide the plans."

"I think I begin to see," Arvis said, speaking for the first time since they'd arrived, "this would combine Narshe's funds and production capabilities with Figaran weaponry… but no. Ancients but even that surprise won't be enough. We still don't have the manpower."

"Manpower?" asked Terra, "Look around Banon. Ancients know how many of the Returners are here in Narshe."

"That is only about half of the Returners I expect to arrive," Banon replied, smiling. But then his smile faded. "And yet, were we to attack Vector with all our forces, we would still be outnumbered nearly 4-to-1 just by the forces that guard the city. It does not include any other forces the Imperial Army may have on patrols or stationed through the rest of the continent."

Banon took a deep breath before continuing. "I received a pigeon from one of my agents in Vector. Although rumors are beginning to spread through the populace about the crimes that have been committed by the Empire and some people are quietly questioning Gestahl and what he's doing, there is still no movement against him. He has also increased the defenses since you escaped from the Research Facility. Gestahl is a master at leading people and getting them to support him. If we give him too much time then he will again win the loyalty of everyone in Vector. We cannot wait to build the Returners to match the Empire, if we even could."

Silence reigned for several moments, each of them contemplating the numerous hurdles still in their path.

"Terra," said Banon slowly, "you said that from your father's memories, you know that the Espers raised a barrier to their world, correct?"

Terra nodded.

"Could you find this doorway?"

She nodded again. "I think so. I can feel something pulling me towards it. A feeling like I want to go home. I know the doorway is somewhere in or around the southern continent, I think to the east of Vector, but I would have to go there to find the actual doorway."

"Then we have all the manpower we need," Banon said, "we open that gateway."

"To the Esper world?" gasped Terra.

"You're mad," Setzer commented, "you're all mad."

"It makes sense," Arvis said, "we don't have the numbers to face the Empire head-on, and we can't keep hiding. The Empire has had the advantage of Magitek since the beginning of this fight. Power that they stole from Espers they captured when they took Terra. If we can open the gate… who here thinks the Espers _won't_ jump at the chance to get even with the Empire?"

"The Espers will level Vector," Locke mused, "smash every building into dust until the only way to know the city was there would be to look at a map."

"And the people?" asked Sabin, "What about them? We can't control the Espers any better than the Empire. How could we stop them from slaughtering everyone in the city?"

"You see another option, oh great Blitz Master?" asked Locke snidely.

"There's no need for that, Locke," Edgar admonished. He'd listened to Locke vent his frustration and rage for nearly an hour the previous night; he knew everything that was bothering his friend.

"The Agroch Mountains doth protect Vector from the north," Cyan commented, his gaze on the map before them, "but if we canst bring the Espers from the east, Banon, thou canst bring thy forces in from the west."

"A classic pincer attack," agreed Banon. "We would need to have our flank sweep up around the south to completely encircle the city. But we would need the heaviest concentration of the Imperial army to the east, facing the Espers. Otherwise they'll slaughter our forces."

Terra swallowed hard. The feeling that had accompanied the visions of the Imperial invasion of the Esper world had been… rage. Regret and fear had been there as well, but mostly rage, anger at the humans for invading and for capturing Espers for use in draining them for Magitek weapons. After that, she didn't think the Espers would see a difference between the Empire and any other humans.

"Gau think Espers gonna make mess," the boy warned the others.

"We can't just rely on the Espers," Sabin protested, "there's no way of knowing that they'll fight with us."

"There's no way around it!" insisted Locke.

"Sabin," began Banon, "we must do our best to make the Espers understand. We must establish a bond of trust. We must show them that not all humans are same as the Empire. It is a risk we must take, and there is only one person who has a chance to do so."

Terra's head whipped around to look at Banon, only to find him already gazing at her with his crystal clear eyes. Her stomach suddenly twisted into a knot. The Empire held every advantage, and without something to level the field, there could be no victory for the Returners. The Espers held all the power necessary to turn the tide. Without them, it would be time to give up, and all the sacrifice that everyone had made would have been for nothing.

_I am the product of love between a human and an Esper_, she thought, _I am proof that we _can_ form a bond with the Espers. Maybe if they meet me, come face to face with me, they can see who I am, remember who I am, and help._

"I'll do it," she said with far more confidence than she felt, "I'm the only one who can. I can lead us to the gate, use magic to lower the barrier and communicate with the Espers in their world. Then we can have justice."

"How soon can we do this?" asked Arvis excitedly.

"Narshe needs time to produce Figaran weaponry," said Elder Kendrick, "and since I am sure King Edgar does not want his secrets in anyone's hands, we will likely have to wait for engineers to arrive from Figaro Castle. We can send riders by chocobo…"

"We can use the _Blackjack_," offered Setzer.

"I'll send a letter to Chancellor Paulus, have him prepare a contingent of engineers to send back on the _Blackjack_," Edgar said, "I think that I can start making modifications to Narshe's production lines so that once the engineers arrive we can start immediately."

"How long?" asked Banon.

Edgar's head swayed from side to side as his face grew pensive, considering. "A month. Maybe an extra week or two depending on how many troops we need to equip."

"I can probably have most of our troops begin making their way to the Southern Continent," Banon said thoughtfully. "If Master Setzer is willing to transport troops down to ports in Jidoor and Nikeah, or even all the way to the coast, perhaps west of Albrook, then they can begin making their way to positions near Vector. I'll speak to my captains today and determine where to make our camps."

"Doth we dare wait so long?" asked Cyan, "Perhaps a month doth be time enough for Gestahl to change the hearts and minds of thou people."

"We can't go without the rest of the Returners," said Locke, "without them to hold the western line, then the Imperial forces can simply fight a running retreat. Then there's no point in fighting this in the first place."

Banon moved over and put a hand on Terra's shoulder. "If you can get the Espers to understand, then we can bring this war to a screeching halt. The lives of tens of thousands of people will be spared the horror that we may yet face. I know that you can do this, Terra. You have a power greater than magic. You have the power of your heart."

Terra nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Banon then turned to regard everyone else.

"Take what rest you can get in the coming weeks. I have a feeling that once we are ready to move, there will be very little rest for any of us."

* * *

Over the course of the next few weeks, Narshe was a beehive of activity. The citizens moved supplies of food and water into the mines, preparing for the possibility of a retributive strike. Edgar's engineers arrived from Figaro and together had Narshe's facilities producing Figaran weaponry; spears with spring-loaders to give an extra punch through armor, repeating crossbows, auto spear-throwers for the defenses along the wall, and other weaponry that defended Figaro's interests.

Gau had attached himself to Setzer, and enjoyed the rides on the _Blackjack_, ferrying troops to and from Narshe and down towards the southern continent. Setzer made two trips each week, carrying a full compliment of Returner troops each time. During one return, Janson tried to have Terra and Edgar tell Setzer to put less strain on the _Blackjack_, as he feared the old girl might fail at a bad time. But Setzer would have none of it.

"The _Blackjack_ has never let me down before, and she won't now," he said angrily when the idea was presented to him, "I know that I've never asked so much of her, but she won't quit on me. She knows I'll never quit on her. Just let us do our part of this lunacy."

Locke and Terra spent much of the time working with the citizens of Narshe, and their work had made it so that the people had begun to hail them and Edgar as leaders almost as great as Banon; his captains in the coming offensive, higher than any other officer, even those who'd been part of the Returners for months or years.

Meanwhile, Cyan and Sabin spent their time secluded with Banon, Arvis, Elder Kendrick and the Marshal-Captain, planning their assault and method of approach. Cyan wanted bold maneuvers, similar to standard Doman tactics; a direct thrust, uncompromising and merciless. The men of Narshe were far, far more cautious. It took Banon and Sabin both a lot of work to moderate between the two sides, combining Doman audacity with Narshan prudence.

At one point, Banon looked over at Sabin, commenting how it was just like old times. He and Duncan had often had to curb Gestahl's tendency for reckless maneuvers, even as much they occasionally worked out.

* * *

Sabin walked out of the Elder's house, which had been transformed into the main war room. Another four hours spent in planning. He was exhausted, yet glad that Master Duncan had educated his students in war planning and tactics.

_Most battles are won before the first arrow leaves the bow_, Duncan had once said, _Know your enemy as you know yourself. Ignore your strategies, ignore your tactics, and you will be unable to ignore your own defeat._

Sabin smiled in the mid-afternoon sun. Narshe was still cold enough this far into the spring for most people to require a jacket. He suppressed a shiver of his own, refusing to let the sudden chill breeze affect him. He remained in his usual attire of sleeveless shirt and pants.

"Excuse me, sir," said a woman's voice.

Sabin looked over to the street, to the woman who held a young child in her arms.

"Yes, ma'am, what can I do for you?" he asked as courteously as he could.

"You are the one the others say is the heir of Ironhand? You are the student of Master Duncan?" she asked, her voice tinged with something that Sabin couldn't quite identify.

Her words, however, seemed to have been heard by half the people in the street. Those who knew him spoke his name, and soon murmurs of "Sabin Ironhand" and "Master Sabin" began to roll through the swiftly gathering crowd.

"Can we win this, Master Sabin?" called a man from the back.

"Will you lead the Returners to victory?" asked another.

"Master Sabin you are a healer," said the woman who'd first come to him, "my child has been ill for several months, please heal her."

"I… can't," Sabin said, looking at her with sorrow. "I don't know how. I do not know the Blitz for harnessing energy to heal. I am sorry."

"But you are the Blitz Master," the woman insisted, "you can…"

"Sabin Ironhand is the child of Master Duncan!" shouted a man, drowning the woman's voice.

"Ironhand!" yelled people together.

"Stop!" Sabin tried to yell, "I'm not…"

"Sabin Ironhand! Master Sabin!" they cried.

Sabin felt sick to his stomach. He focused on the lifestream, pulling its energy into him, and he leapt onto the roof of the Elder's home. Then he ran. Rooftop to rooftop, leaping from one to the next. Towards the mines. Away from the city. Away from the people. Away from people who thought he was anything special. Away from those who did not understand the immensity of the failure that he was.

After a while, he finally found a mountain outcropping that satisfied him. There was no way to see Narshe from it. He would be alone again, blessedly. The wind at this height was bitterly cold, biting into his arms and shoulders, flowing through his shirt and driving pins into his chest and back. Sabin ignored it all.

"Why, Master?" he asked into the wind, "Why did you ever pick me? I was nothing. A second-rate student, a prince who failed his people. I failed as a son and as a brother. I failed as a student to save you. I killed Vargas, who had been my friend. I failed Celes, and I can't help Locke."

Sabin's mind went back to the day when he was thirteen years old. He'd run away from Figaro in the middle of the night. He'd somehow evaded his brother's scouts who'd been keeping an eye on him, but after a week he had not had food, and had only been able to drink from mountain streams. Sabin remembered laying down in a small clearing, then a pair of arms picking him up, and the next thing he knew he was in Duncan's cabin in the mountains.

"You should have let me die on that mountain, Master," Sabin said bitterly.

He was still there three hours later when Cyan finally found him. The old knight said nothing, merely sitting down next to the younger man. Cyan pulled his long coat tighter to avoid the cold wind. He worried about Sabin's fingers and toes in this cold.

"He should never have trained me," Sabin said finally.

Cyan nodded. He'd seen this in the younger warrior before; the self-loathing, the lack of esteem. He needed to straighten Sabin out before the young man's doubts made him ineffective.

"Perhaps not," Cyan agreed, hurting at the pain that it brought to Sabin's face, "if this doth be how you repay him."

Sabin's eyes briefly flashed with anger, then it was gone. Cyan knew he had to bring that spark back.

"Duncan Ironhand gave all he had to thee," he said fiercely, "I knew him, and knew that his judgment was beyond reproach. If he believed that you had it within thou to be worthy of the legacy of the Blitz, then you were. He saw in thou a man, not a boy. I shall hear many things about Master Duncan, but I shall not hear you disparage thee."

"Disparage him?" repeated Sabin hotly, "He was like my father! I would never dishonor him like that. Duncan was a great man! The failure is not his, it's mine!"

"What has thou failed at, Sir Sabin?" retorted Cyan, "You didst defeat Vargas, who betrayed his father to thou foul Empire. Thou led thine brother, Terra and Locke to Banon and have stood by them through dangers that Duncan couldst not have imagined. And you believe that you doest be a failure?"

"Everyone sees me as Duncan's heir," Sabin said, choking on the words, "but I'm not. I can't be him. I'm not Duncan."

"Indeed, thou are not," agreed Cyan, nodding. "Thou are Sabin Figaro, Blitz Master and Prince of Figaro. Thou will be the man thou are, and shall not be Duncan Ironhand. His life is not yours. Yes, people will remember the tales of Master Duncan. They shall expect the same of thee, but you shall forge your own name, thine own legends. Duncan's legacy is yours, his legends are not."

Sabin finally raised his eyes to meet the older knight's own.

"I can't be Duncan Ironhand for these people, Cyan," he said slowly, "how do I show them that I'm only Sabin Figaro."

Cyan nodded. "They shalt learn to know thou for who you are. It will take time, young friend. I faced these same doubts when I was named Retainer to King Gareth. My predecessor had held such position for 40 years. I didst have very large shoes to fill, and still I believe I have not matched him."

Sabin dropped his eyes, but he nodded. Cyan rose and put a hand on the martial artist's shoulder.

"Come Sabin, we are still needed for the planning of the assault."

* * *

Narshe was emptier than it had been in weeks. Terra looked around the nearly empty streets. It was probably much more normal for the citizens, for she could remember the town being more like this when she and Edgar had first arrived with Banon. There was very little traffic on the streets, and there was a lot less noise.

Things seemed to be quieting down for her friends too. Edgar had finally begun to allow himself more than two or three hours of sleep each night, and was beginning to look human again. Setzer had finally decided to give the _Blackjack_ a break, and it was now moored just outside of town, waiting to bring the final load of soldiers down to the Southern Continent and then take the rest of them to find the gate to the Esper world. Gau was as energetic as ever, while Locke was still seeming to do his work without really paying attention to what he was doing. Sabin had appeared quite depressed much of the previous week, but had seemed to find a reserve of energy and had thrown himself into helping the citizens and began training some of the Returner troops in unarmed combat.

Things were far from good, but they could be a lot worse, Terra decided. No she just wanted to take a walk around the town, but before she got started, Locke and Edgar were strolling out of the house the group had shared over the past weeks.

Locke still wore his leather jacket, while Edgar had draped a fur-lined cloak around himself. The back of the cloak emblazoned with the seal of Figaro.

"Heading out, gorgeous?" asked Edgar with a smile and a wink.

"Just walking," she answered, "want to join me?"

"Love to," replied Locke.

The three of them began to stroll lazily through the town. There was no more snow on the streets within the town, the weather had warmed up enough during the day for all of it to melt. Snow still coated the mountain mines to the north of town. The sun was already sinking towards the horizon and the wind was becoming colder.

The streets were lit only by the light from windows. Most businesses were closing down for the day, but the inns and taverns were just starting to fill with customers. The large copper tanks throughout the town hissed with steam as the boilers pumped warmth into the buildings. Every few minutes someone would come outside and scoop a shovel of coal into the tanks.

"This feels just like old times. Just the three of us," commented Locke.

The other two smiled in remembrance, nodding. Their thoughts had been along a similar line.

"We were on our way to see Banon," mused Terra, "we weren't worried about a massive war yet. Just trying to get Figaro back for Edgar. Espers had still been legends then."

Edgar chuckled, nodding to a pretty young blond woman as they passed one of the cafés in town.

"When I was sitting safely in Figaro Castle, despite what Locke had told me of the Returners and the funds I sent them, I always though it was a small movement. I never would have believed that we would meet so many people who were willing to fight the Empire. I didn't think so many people cared. The Empire didn't have too much power on this continent."

"People can surprise you," Terra said, nodding, "I never would have thought that a king and thie… treasure hunter would be friends. I never imagined that an Imperial general would side with us. I never thought I would know who I was. I wonder what else we will learn and who we will meet in the future."

Locke shivered, and hoped that the other two had missed the grimace when Terra had mentioned Celes. "Who knows?" he said, "I'm not even sure we'll need anyone else. The Espers won't be gentle. They'll help us decimate the Empire and this war can be over."

_Then Rachel will finally be avenged_, he thought.

"So what will we do?" asked Terra, "What will we do when this is over?"

The two men were silent for a time, lost within their own thoughts. Then Edgar spoke.

"Well, I still have a kingdom and my people to take care of," he said, "I can't leave them without their king. Chancellor Paulus is a good man who knows how to run the kingdom while I'm helping stop Kefka and Gestahl, but sooner or later I need to go back. I just hope that Sabin will stay with me when it's over."

"Why wouldn't he? He's your brother!" exclaimed Terra.

Edgar gave a weak smile. "That didn't stop him from leaving ten years ago. It didn't stop him from letting me think he may have been dead all these years. How many times must Duncan have taken him into South Figaro? Yet Sabin never sent a note telling me where he was, or that he was okay. I've always felt more complete with my brother around, even when I was tormenting him as a kid. Part of me is afraid that he really won't stay.

"And part of me is terrified that he would." Edgar said the last bit under his breath, so low that that neither of the others heard him.

Terra then looked over at Locke. "Locke, I know that there is something going on between you and Sabin. You've been avoiding each other like you each carry a disease since we've arrived in Narshe. It's killing me that you two sometimes can't even be in the same room as each other. Please, Locke. Find some way to make peace with Sabin."

Locke shook his head. "I… can't, Terra. I can't do it, not when I know Sabin is in love with Celes and thinks so little of me."

Edgar chuckled. "Oh I doubt Sabin is in love with her, Locke. Sabin doesn't love. He would probably consider that a distraction from his ultimate master of the world, or enlightenment, or whatever you want to call it. Sabin explained the effects of the shadowstone to me, Locke. From what he told me, what happened in Zozo and what Sabin said were probably just the momentary lust that a man feels when looking at a beautiful woman, just like any sane, red-blooded man. But Sabin… no, he's not a man to ever settle down in one place."

"Is that why you're afraid he won't stay in Figaro?" asked Terra.

"Partially," Edgar replied, "but more than that is the fact that Sabin has always had a problem with his own self-worth. He never felt that he deserved good things in life, or that he was ever good enough for something. He was so young when Mom died, and then Dad. Mom really doted on him when she was alive, and I think Matron felt that Sabin was Mom's favorite, so she worked him harder than she ever did me. She was always pushing Sabin to be better, while me… well, Locke and I have told you some stories. I guess Sabin felt he wasn't good enough to have fun and relax. I really, honestly think that all of his laughter and his bravado… I think it's all an act. A defense of some kind."

"His courage is real," insisted Terra.

"So is his foolhardiness," commented Locke snidely, earning a stern look from his jade-haired companion.

"HELP! Thief!" cried a voice.

"Burn you it's _TREASURE HUNTER_!" yelled Locke.

"I don't think they meant you," said Terra, looking around.

The sound of shattering glass drew them to a storefront around the corner, where a tall, slender figure in a black cloak was rising from the cobblestone street, holding its right shoulder. Other citizens were beginning to gather also, and as the figure rose, the hood of his cloak fell back.

The man was young, but his face was already scarred and an eyepatch covered his right eye. Something glinted in his hand before he shoved it into his cloak. He glared at the people around.

"Bloody Ancients!" he cried, "I've been made!"

"Wolf?" cried Locke in a startled voice.

The other man turned to them. "Cole? Burn you, I'll not go to prison!"

With that the man took off, pushing through the crowd and dodging around the three of them. As he hopped past Locke, the other man's hand flashed out and removed Locke's belt pouch. Then he dashed around a corner.

"After 'im! He got my money! Stop thief!" yelled Locke, before leaping to a dead run.

"I never thought I'd hear that coming from Locke. Now that is funny," joked Edgar, as he and Terra followed.

Terra and Edgar were right behind Locke, charging through the darkening streets. Locke was only barely able to keep an eye on the dark cloak as his flapped in the wind. The person was heading for the northern mines, and Locke knew that if he got too far ahead then they would lose him.

The man suddenly took a quick turn, leaping onto a ledge on the mountain and disappearing into the mines.

"Where do… those mines… lead to?" asked Edgar while trying to catch his breath.

"There's some isolated areas of the mountains back there," replied Locke, doing better with his breathing due to having needed to do a lot more running in his line of work.

"The Marshal-Captain showed me some shortcuts while we were stocking supplies," said Terra, "follow me!"

While hurrying through the mines, Edgar finally got his breath back enough to ask the question that had been in his mind for a while.

"Locke, who is this guy? You called him Wolf."

The young rogue nodded. "I don't know his real name, but he goes by the name Lone Wolf. He's a pickpocket, an ordinary street urchin. I've run into him a few times here in town while I've been doing work for Arvis. We don't like each other very much."

The trio reached a passage with several possible routes, and they paused to catch their breaths.

"Bloody Ancients!" cursed Locke.

"He couldn't have beaten us here," insisted Edgar, "could he?"

A voice then echoed down the right passage. "You're flaming persistent, you know that?!"

"This way!" cried Locke.

After another few moments of chasing shadows, the three young heroes found themselves at a ledge overlooking the canyons that lay on the far side of the mountains. The ground dropped hundreds of feet below them, and the winds blew strongly here. Terra realized that except for being much lower on the mountain, this was very similar to where Elder Kendrick had kept the Esper.

Lone Wolf had his back to them, struggling with something in his hands, so he didn't seem to notice as they began to draw weapons.

"We've got you cornered, so don't even think about escaping," Edgar called to him. "Now give us what you stole right now and we'll consider going easy on you. Who knows, you may even be released sooner than you thought possible."

Suddenly the other man spun around. In his arms was a struggling creature. Short white fur covered it from head to feet, its arms and feet seeming small even on its body. Short wings protruded from its back.

"A Moogle," whispered Terra.

"This is a bit of a wild one!" laughed Lone Wolf, as he held the struggling creature close to the edge, "Don't move, or this one is going to have a long time to curse you for meddling."

"Let him go, now!" demanded Locke, his fingers twitching around the hilt of his knife.

"I'm not one for following orders!" retorted Lone Wolf, "You let me go, and I'll consider letting him free."

"You've come a long way from picking pockets in the street, Wolf," said Locke, "a long way down."

Wolf laughed. "At least I'm not some sap who thinks he's gonna beat the Empire. I'll be alive, while you'll be providing a foundation for the weeds that'll grow over your grave. Now, let me outta here."

"Kupo!" cried the Moogle, "Kupo! Kupo! Kupo!"

They all stared at the small creature, and then the ledge began to tremble and shake. Locke, Terra and Edgar dropped to one knee, bracing themselves and slowly backing towards the entrance back into mines.

Lone Wolf, however, remained upright, still struggling against the Moogle. There came one more violent tremor and both of them fell over the side of the ledge.

"No!" cried Terra. She was on her feet and running towards the ledge before the tremors stopped.

She looked over the side. Lone Wolf and the Moogle were both holding onto the rocks, but neither had a firm grip. On nearly opposite sides of the ledge, Terra knew she'd only be able to save one of them.

"Help me!" cried Lone Wolf, "I have treasure! A relic of the Ancients! I'll give it to you, but help me!"

"Kupo!" cried the Moogle desperately.

"This was your fault, Lone Wolf. Your choice," Terra told him, thinking back to what Sabin had told her. Every person makes their choices. "You have to live with the consequences."

She then reached down, grabbing the Moogle's shoulder. A moment later, she felt hands on her ankles and her belt.

"Burn you to all three hells!" yelled Lone Wolf, "You'll never get the relic!"

His grip finally failed him, and his cry of "BURN YOU!!" echoed through the canyons.

Terra held onto the Moogle as Locke and Edgar pulled her back onto the ledge, and the last of the remaining tremors finally ceased. She stayed seated on the ground, looking over at the white-furred creature, amazed at how cute it was.

"Terra," said Locke, "never do that again. You scared us half to death."

"She good friend, kupo!" the Moogle suddenly burst out, and all three humans looked at him as though they'd seen a ghost.

"You can… talk?" Locke stuttered.

The Moogle looked at him and smiled. "Of course, kupo. My name Mog, Moogle Prince! You Locke, you Terra. I bring Moogles to save you, remember?"

"I thought he looked familiar," Locke said to himself.

"I do remember, vaguely," Terra told him. "Thank you, Mog. Locke and I may very well have died that day if you hadn't helped us."

Mog leapt into her arms, and Terra hugged the little creature. He really was cute.

"Well, if there's anything we can do for you…" began Edgar.

"I join you!" Mog cried excitedly, "I fight with you. Old Ramuh came in dreams. Said you come back. You fight Esper-killers. Moogles remember Espers. Remember great war. I try get Moogles to fight with you, kupo. But chiefs say no fighting. Protect warrens. But I fight with you, kupo!"

"I don't know about this…" began Edgar.

"I'd let him in," interrupted Locke, "I remember how well the Moogles fought against the guards of Narshe. And Mog was easily the strongest of them. I think we could do a lot worse."

"Mean man catch Mog by surprise," he told them, "weapons still in cave. Follow!"

The little creature hopped out of Terra's arms and hurried towards the mines. Terra followed, and after a moment, the two men joined them. Off to one side, Mog picked up a spear. Its haft was as tall as he was, and there was at least another foot of gleaming razor-sharp steel at the end. It looked like a ferocious weapon, and completely at odds with Mog's appearance.

"Well I'll be a Moogle's uncle," muttered Edgar, "I guess you're all right, Mog. Just don't give Terra any ideas that you're cuter than I am. I have the rights to that title."

Mog laughed. "Desert King funny. Mog like traveling with you already, kupo!"

* * *

When Terra and the others entered the house, she noticed that Cyan was quietly reading by the fire, while Sabin, Gau and Setzer sat at the table, engrossed in a game of cards.

"I'm not sure what four sixes is," said Sabin with a grin as he laid his cards on the table, "but the king I think is pretty high."

"Burn you, Sabin!" cursed Setzer, "Now I know you're cheating."

"Really? And what do you call that card you've got up your sleeve?" replied Sabin.

"The ace of spades," muttered Setzer.

Terra couldn't help it. She laughed. There were a lot worse places she could be than among her friends. They were her family, and no matter what, no matter their fights and their arguments, she knew, heart and soul, that they would always protect and watch out for each other.

That was what love meant.


	25. Chapter 23: Rise of the Lost Ones

Bloody Ancients! Two 20-page updates in two weeks?! The world must be coming to an end! Well, for our intrepid heroes it is, but not just yet. I had a lot of inspiration to get another chapter out quickly after the amazing reviews from ZefieK, Frozen Aura and MogGuy. Thanks for your support. Hopefully I won't take another six months to get out more updates. As always, provide reviews… please! As you can see, reviews get chapters out much faster. Once again, thank you… and enjoy.

* * *

It amazed Terra that the powerful engines of the _Blackjack_ made very little sound, little more a dull _thrummm_. How Setzer had accomplished such a feat was one of the many mysteries about the man, she was sure. Most questions about his past had been met with a smile before he turned away to inspect some part of his ship.

They had left Narshe three days ago, bringing Banon and the remainder of the Returner troops with them. They had landed just west of Albrook, flying low over the water to avoid Imperial observers as much as possible. Banon had let the troops off the ship, then had provided a few last words of encouragement.

"Remember," he'd told them, "the power of the Espers is unimaginable, and we cannot know what defenses they may have to prevent access to their world. Terra, be careful. Stay focused on who you are. Remember what the Esper in Narshe was able to do to you when your mind bonded too closely with its own. We can't afford to lose you. The rest of you, protect her and each other. Remember that you must defend each other against any enemy, and you will be able to stand strong."

Now they slowly flew low over the sparsely inhabited eastern region of the continent, and Terra grew more anxious with every passing hour. Setzer took every opportunity to fly only at night, hiding the _Blackjack_ as well as he could in the meager forests that he found during the day. They needed to give Banon nearly a week to organize the Returners and get them into position near Vector, so the _Blackjack's_ slow pace was intentional. Thus, although the journey could have been made in only a day and a half, according to Setzer, would take them a full week.

But that didn't help Terra. Every night they flew and every day they hid, her doubts grew stronger. She had hardly eaten anything today, feeling far too guilty about dragging her friends on a quest that could very well lead to their deaths. She began to wonder how many of them believed this was the right thing to do, and how many were coming out of simple loyalty to her and Banon.

_Why couldn't I have just gone alone?_ she wondered, and not for the first time.

Dusk was settling in, and they would probably continue on their way within another ten minutes, once Setzer felt it was dark enough.

Laughing drew her gaze away from the woods and back to the deck. Mog and Gau were dancing, the Moogle showing his new friend some very fancy footwork. Several members of the crew were watching and laughing, and a few even joined in with sailor's jigs of their own. Raucous laughter and crude jokes were directed at the crewmen, who laughed and joked back as well.

She'd been told by the others that the crew had very nearly adopted Gau on earlier trips, and his new friendship with Mog had helped the crew get over their initial shock at the Moogle's appearance.

Terra turned back to the woods. She knew that Cyan, Edgar and Locke were probably in one of the _Blackjack's_ holds. The Doman knight had taken it upon himself to work the rest of them on their swordsmanship. He had acknowledged they were skilled, but each had benefited from Cyan's years of experience. Sabin was probably meditating again. Terra felt that he'd been doing far too much of that in the past week or two. He hardly spoke to anyone; meditating and training took up the majority of his time. Sabin was still friendly enough when they all gathered for meals, but he'd become a bit withdrawn. She hoped he was all right.

"You don't look too thrilled at seeing the trees," came Setzer's voice, and Terra spun around to look at him as he approached. "Maybe you should see the forest, and not the trees."

He leaned his forearms on the railing next to her. In the early summer heat of the south, Setzer had foregone his black longcoat, and the sleeves of his white silk shirt had been rolled up nearly to his elbows.

"I'm not sure I understand," replied Terra.

Setzer chuckled for a moment. "You're not seeing the big picture, Terra. You're seeing this battle, these friends, this fight. What you're not seeing is what is happening overall. The struggle against oppression, the fight for the preservation of life. You're seeing the potential of the Espers destroying Vector, but not them bringing justice against those who have used their kind like a kind of fuel, burning through them like candles."

"So I need to ignore the possibility that my friends could die?" she asked hotly.

"No. What I'm saying is you have to see that their death would mean something," answered Setzer, "I'm not saying that I have any desire to die. But if I do, you have understand that there is a reason for fighting greater than my own desires. I chose to join up not based on you, but on the others."

"But I'm the one leading you all into danger," Terra protested.

"You're leading us?" echoed Setzer, "That's funny. I always though it was the man who was supposed to lead."

Terra turned to glare at him, only to see the gambler smirking as he stared at the woods.

"This is serious, Setzer. You can't make everything into a joke," she told him.

"Not everything is a joke, my young friend," replied Setzer, "some things are very, very serious."

His eyes dropped down, staring at his hands.

"You're doing this for Celes, aren't you?" asked Terra.

Setzer's head snapped up, and his eyes flicked over to her, but otherwise he continued to face straight ahead.

"I had every intention of whisking Maria, an opera singer, away and overwhelming her with my romantic charm in order to make her my wife. I have been alone for so long that I wanted a wife, but I suppose my ego wouldn't allow me to have done so in the usual way. I still had to have the most beautiful and unattainable woman that I had ever heard of. When I laid eyes on Celes, and saw that she was far more stunning than Maria… Then I learned of her wit, her strength, and her convictions, and she unlocked something in me."

He turned and looked at Terra from the corner of his eye. "Now a part of me fears I will never have her for my wife. Ever since she cheated her way out of it."

The last was said with a slight grin. Edgar had told Terra of Setzer's condition for helping them, and how Celes had used Edgar's trick coin to deceive the gambler. Setzer pushed himself upright.

"Just remember, Terra," he said to her, "we made the choice to come this far, knowing the dangers. Don't take the burden of our choices on your shoulders. You may be very important in the grand scheme of things, but you're no greater than the rest of us. Keep your feet on the ground."

Setzer rested a hand on her shoulder for a moment, smiled, and then turned back to the crew, shouting orders to get underway. Terra tried to smile, but failed, and turned back to the woods as the _Blackjack_ pulled into the evening sky.

"Kupo?"

Terra turned to see Mog as he came up to her, then wrapped her leg in a hug. Smiling, she knelt down to his level.

"What is it, Mog?" she asked.

"I think you need smile more," he replied, "you too pretty not to. Happy smile makes Terra more pretty. No frown. No sad. All life is dream. Happy dream, sad dream. One day we wake from dream, but remain in dreams of others. Be happy in this dream, kupo."

After another smile and a hug, Mog walked back to the rest of the crew, calling to Gau to come down from where he climbed halfway up the mast.

Finally, Terra had a genuine smile. Mog was right, in a strange Moogle way of saying it. This was the only life she had. Better to be happy being surrounded by friends and doing the right thing than being sad about the conquences. You just had to live with them.

* * *

Sabin was balanced on the palms of his hands, each one rested on the seat of a chair. He was vertical, his feet pointed at the ceiling as he did handstand push-ups. The steady exercise and the meditation had been the only things keeping him sane while they were cooped up on the _Blackjack_. He didn't mind the airship, and in fact knew that the Returners would be sunk without Setzer's help, but ten years of living in the wild had left their mark. Sabin hated being confined for more than a day or so.

Being up on deck helped, but he could still tell that the crew was afraid of him. Rumors about the powers of the Blitz were often exaggerated, but still some people believed he was capable of more than he was. So Sabin did what he could to avoid the crew, not wanting to antagonize Setzer's people.

So here he was, on a delightful evening after a lovely sunset, doing handstand push-ups so that he wouldn't go and break something.

A knock sounded at his door.

"Come in," he called.

Sabin's eyes were focused on the floor, maintaining concentration, so he couldn't tell who it was that came in. Briefly, Sabin wondered if he should have gotten down and put a shirt on first.

"Hey Sabin," said Locke.

Without a word, Sabin pushed himself forcefully into the air, somersaulting forward to land on his feet. Locke was wearing a black shirt that he'd cut most of the sleeves off of; they only came halfway between his elbow and shoulder. Locke held his trademark jacket in one hand.

"Good evening, Locke," replied Sabin, "what can I do for you."

Locke's eyes dropped, and he hesitated. "I just want to make sure… that no matter what we think about each other… that we can count on each other if things go sour. I don't like you, Sabin, not at all. But you need to know that I'll still help you. Not because I want to, but because whether I like it or not, we're still a team. And if I were to let you die or something, then we're all weakened, and Terra's going to need all the help she can get."

Sabin looked hard at his brother's friend. After their last conversation, Sabin knew he would be hard-pressed to consider Locke a friend. He was a traveling companion, and an ally.

"I've sworn to myself that I will protect all of you with my life, if need be," Sabin told him, "and how we feel towards each other has no impact on that oath. If it is within my power, I will protect you."

Locke nodded once, then walked out the door. On the far side, Edgar was waiting.

"Well?" he asked Locke.

Locke was silent for a moment, then slipped on his jacket. "We won't kill each other," he answered, then left to head up on deck.

Edgar took a deep breath and let it out. "Well Ancients, there's step one."

* * *

"How much further, Terra?" asked Setzer.

"Not far now," she answered. The sensation that was gently pulling her towards the gate to the Esper world was stronger now. They were skirting the eastern coast of the continent, continuing south. Terra reached up to gently finger the ruby pendant around her neck. It almost seemed to be humming with energy the closer they got to the gate.

Sabin and Gau were up in the crow's nest, their eyesight was far better than any member of the crew. The rest of the party was spread around the deck, keeping out of the crew's way as much as possible.

There was suddenly a cry from Sabin and he leapt from his place in the crow's nest. He landed hard on the deck, but stood up without injury. Terra wondered how he could survive drops like that.

"Setzer! Get to the ground, NOW!" ordered Sabin.

The gambler didn't hesitate, but instantly the _Blackjack_ sank to only a few dozen feet above the ground. Setzer gently maneuvered the ship toward a copse of trees.

"What is it, Sabin?" he asked.

"An Imperial base," answered Sabin, watching as Gau playfully climbed down the mast, making sounds like a monkey, "it's guarding a bridge over a channel to a small island. Quarter of a mile on, so it's a good bet they spotted us, unless they mistake us for a bird that's a lot closer than we really are. Maybe it was still dark enough."

Sabin took a look toward the sun rising in the east, then looked into the sky. It still seemed fairly dark that high. The others had joined them at this point.

"Yeah, but since when did luck start working for us, little brother?" asked Edgar, a serious look on his face.

Sabin shrugged, nodding. "Very true."

"Lady Terra, doest thou feel that we are close enough to walk?" asked Cyan.

"I think so," she answered, "I thought it was a little odd that I felt like we should be flying into the ocean."

"Then the gate is on the island," Locke figured.

"Janson!" called Setzer, "You're in command. Keep the ship ready, we may have to beat a hasty retreat."

"Aye, skipper," replied Janson, who then turned and began giving orders for temporary mooring.

The eight of them headed back down into the _Blackjack_, where Setzer led them to the room that had been set aside as their armory. They took their weapons from the shelves and racks and helped each other buckle on armor. After twenty minutes, they were ready and made their way off the ship.

Sabin and Gau pulled ahead of the rest, scouting the area. The ground was not as smooth as it had looked from the air. The ground rolled with small valleys and crevices, and large rocks provided plenty of cover. Locke led Edgar and Cyan while Setzer brought Terra and Mog with him. They stayed separate, hoping smaller groups would attract less attention.

It was slow, but after a half-hour, the two groups of three had met up with each other only a hundred yards or so from the base. Shockingly, it looked as though the gates were wide open.

"That's not good," muttered Edgar.

Locke looked over at his old friend. "Ed, you've been the one complaining about how luck hasn't been going our way. I think an abandoned base would have you jumping for joy."

"I agree with King Edgar, Sir Locke," commented Cyan, "there doest be something wrong here. Why wouldst Imperials abandon thine own base? Especially that which guards the gate to the Esper world?"

"The whole base is empty," said Sabin.

Terra very nearly jumped, her hand coming to her throat. Several of the others _did_ jump, and Locke and Mog had weapons pointed at him as they turned. Sabin was crouched on a waist-high rock behind them, a small grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Burn you, Sabin," cursed Edgar, "you have _got_ to make more noise."

Sabin's smile broadened for a moment, then faded. "I meant what I said. There isn't a soul inside. There hasn't been for at least a week. Whatever happened, the departure was sudden. There is still food left on tables in the mess hall, and in the barracks beds haven't been made. They stopped what they were doing and left. Tracks have mostly been weathered away, but I found some heading inland."

"Where's Gau?" asked Terra.

"Watching the far end of the base," answered Sabin. "Gates there are open also. The bridge is maybe two hundred feet long, maybe thirty feet above the water. No guards, no nothing. I don't like it."

"Don't like what? Don't think the odds are in our favor?" asked Setzer, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Sabin eyed him seriously. "There are several options as to why this place was abandoned, and I don't like any of them. Either Gestahl is planning a new offensive, which I doubt would make him pull guards from a base so close to Vector. Another possibility is that Banon and the Returners were spotted on their way, and Gestahl is sending a force to intercept them, in which case, knowing Banon's tactical abilities, he would very likely send everything he has at them."

"Great, any other cheerful ideas there, little brother?" asked Edgar.

Sabin frowned. "Several. But I don't think you want to hear them."

"All right," said Terra, breaking the staring contest between the two brothers, "that's enough. We can't worry about. We need to get moving. Sabin, lead us through the base as quickly as possible. Hopefully we can get this done with a minimum of trouble."

Sabin nodded and bounded ahead of them, springing from one rock to the next, keeping himself in view of the others. They followed him past the gates and into the base itself. A ledge ran along the top of the wall, arrow slits and crenellations providing for defense. Several buildings were positioned around the walls; barracks and mess halls, armories and forges. The center area of the base was an open parade ground. The utter silence and stillness of the base filled them all with unease. Their own rapid footsteps echoed from the walls and parapets. Each of them kept looking around, as if expecting an army to jump out of one of the buildings without warning.

Sabin led them through quickly, and within a few minutes met up with Gau who was faithfully keeping an eye out for anything.

"Anyone follow us?" Sabin asked the boy.

"Waroo! No bad guys follow, Mr. Thou," said the boy with a smile. "We all alone here. Boring time."

Sabin grinned and the two of them moved ahead of the others again, making their way past the bridge. On the far side, Terra could see a small wooded area on either side, but directly in front of the bridge the trees had been cleared away, leaving a path directly to the heart of the island. Sabin and Gau disappeared into the trees as soon as they could. Terra and the others waited an agonizing five minutes before Gau appeared again, waving them forward.

"Where doest Sir Sabin be?" asked Cyan as soon as they made it over.

"Mr. Thou wait at cave. Big cave. Scary cave," said Gau.

Terra looked around as they moved forward. She knew that this was the area she had seen in her vision. She could tell that the trees had been cleared even more than they had been in her memory, marking the way to the gate almost directly.

As they approached, they saw Sabin kneeling in the dirt outside a cave entrance at the base of one of the tall hills. He was looking between the ground in front of him and the darkness within the cave.

"What is it?" asked Terra, as she noticed that Sabin had one hand pressed against his side, directly over the shadowscar.

He looked at her. Pain throbbed in his side from the shadowscar, but he pushed past it. "There is a great deal of pain here, so terrible that it makes me want to howl. And yet…"

"And yet what?" prompted Edgar.

"Hope," replied Sabin, his voice full of amazement and curiosity. He shook his head. "I don't understand it. I've never felt anything like it. I can distinctly feel each; buried in this ground, infused into the rocks. But I can't find any tracks. No one has been here in years, maybe decades."

"Esper power. Esper hearts infuse the world," said Mog.

Sabin nodded. "Very likely, my friend."

"I'll go first," Terra volunteered, drawing her sword as she spoke. "If there are any Espers loose in there, maybe they'll listen to me first."

She walked in, the others following slowly behind her, weapons held at the ready. Light vanished within a few feet of stepping past the cave's threshold. Sabin lit a torch he carried in his pack and held it aloft. The light was barely enough to prevent them from stumbling into the walls.

After perhaps a hundred feet of stumbling in the darkness, they came to a new chamber. This chamber glowed with a soft bluish hue, lights shining along the walls and sparkling through the air. Crystals in the walls glistened in the light.

"It's beautiful," whispered Terra.

Locke shook his head. "How is this possible."

"Light from sun," said Mog, pointing to a thin shaft of golden light coming in from the ceiling on the left. "Light come, shine on crystals. Keep shining and shining."

Indeed, as they looked, they could see the shaft of light intersect some crystals, which reflected a multitude of blue light, hitting other crystals and reflecting more and more.

"Shiny!" cheered Gau, "Shiny! Shiny! Shiny! Shiny!"

"Sir Gau!" hissed Cyan, his rough voice making the boy immediately stop, "Thou cannot make such noise. Stealth doth be our ally."

Gau nodded vigorously.

Terra kept moving down the passage and back into the darkness. It was taking all of her effort to keep her hand and sword blade from shaking as a cold chill settled in her stomach. A moment later, she felt a hand fall on her shoulder and squeeze gently. She didn't need to look back to know that it was Sabin, once again offering his silent comfort.

"I see light!" Locke whispered loudly, pointing down a side passage that sloped deeper into the earth.

A red glow reflected off the walls, and as they approached, the air grew warmer and warmer, until several of them broke into a sweat. As they emerged into the new chamber, several of them groaned.

"Lava," moaned Terra, "lava everywhere."

It was a veritable lake, the lava flowing and bubbling across the ground. It's red-hot and white-hot glow suffused the chamber. On the far side of the lake, they could see another passage leading deeper into the earth.

Terra's skin tingled, but not with fear or cold. The same tingle she had felt around the Esper in Narshe. Magic. Esper magic. Ancient and powerful, this magic had to have lasted for years, but she could remember nothing like this from the memories of her father.

"How is this possible?" muttered Edgar.

Meandering through the lake, small platforms of wood, stone, metal, jade, diamond, and other fantastic materials floated above the lava. Occasionally two of them would come close enough for someone to step from one to another.

"That's our ticket," said Locke, smiling.

"I wouldn't want to try it," said Sabin, who then pointed. "Look."

As they watched the platform Sabin pointed to, it suddenly vanished without warning, appearing just as quickly in another part of the lake.

"This was a protective area," muttered Terra, "it must have been created after Gestahl and his soldiers were ejected from the Esper world. When my mother and father came here. Get on a platform, try and get over to the other side, but if you get it wrong, and the platform vanishes…"

"Waroo," said Gau mournfully, "boiled Gau. Gau not want be boiled."

"Naaa, don't worry about it, Gau," said Edgar, "you won't be boiled. Just fried. Extra crispy."

"Not helping, King Edgar," admonished Cyan.

Sabin's eyes watched the platforms without a word. But every time he thought he could figure out a pattern to their movements, something happened to show him there was no pattern.

Setzer hesitantly put one hand at shoulder level over the ledge, and whipped it back with a short cry of pain.

"Bloody Ancients that's hot," he cursed, wringing his hands. "Even if we could fly, there's no way we would survive it. We'd be burned to a crisp before we made it twenty feet."

"Maybe… maybe there _is_ a way," murmured Terra, drawing all eyes to her. "If we _could_ fly, and if we could prevent some of the heat… ICE!"

"What?" asked Locke, as confused as everyone else.

Terra looked as giddy as a child. "The Espers have been teaching us magic while we've carried the Magicite, right?" She didn't wait for the inevitable acknowledgement. "Shiva had powerful ice magic, and I'm sure some of the others were able to pass along some of that knowledge. And others would have had the magic for flying."

"Stray didn't give me knowledge of flying, as much as just floating a few feet off the ground," said Locke. He held the shard of Magicite tightly beneath his shirt. He'd been reluctant to give up the shard, since it had been the one that Celes had borne until she'd vanished in the Magitek Research Facility.

"So between you giving us the ability to float over this, and anyone who knows any of Shiva's ice magic casting it on the lava at our feet, we should be able to make it across," Terra explained excitedly.

"It's risky," warned Edgar.

Sabin laughed. "What's life without a little risk, big brother? Boring, that's what it is!"

"Let's go, kupo!" cried Mog.

Locke began focusing on the power that the Espers had taught them to harness, focused on channeling it, quietly chanting the words of power. His hands began to glow with a soft yellow light, and then for a moment it looked as though he held a pair of tiny silver wings above his palms. The wings faded, and then slowly, he and the others lifted into the air as though they stood on an invisible floor.

"Amazing," whispered Setzer.

"Ice spells now," ordered Terra.

Edgar and Gau stepped forward, for both had carried Shiva's Magicite long enough to learn at least the most basic spell for channeling cold. They worked in eerie harmony, whispering at the same time, then the top of the lava in front of them began to crust over. As they maintained their concentration, a path of crust began to crawl towards the opposite side.

"Move!" ordered Sabin, pushing everyone forward.

The two with the ice magic moved slowly, keeping their concentration on the spell as the crust continued ahead of them. Behind, the lava was not to be held at bay for long, and within a half-dozen steps past, the lava began to cover the crust again.

After several careful and dangerous moments, the group of them finally made it across the chamber. Locke focused, canceling the floating spell, and they sank back onto solid rock. All of them breathed a sigh of relief.

Edgar and Gau were breathing heavily.

"That was… a lot harder… than I thought… it would be," gasped Edgar, trying to catch his breath. Gau was on his hands and knees, breathing deeply and coughing every few moments.

"It takes time to become used to power," Sabin told them. "It won't surprise me if next time you try to cast a spell you'll have no trouble with it at all."

"Come on, kupo!" called Mog, "Not far now!"

"He's right," agreed Terra, "I can feel the gate, almost pulling me towards it."

Everyone readied themselves and continued deeper into the cave system. Streams of lava continued to cross the chambers, but now there were bridges constructed by magic that protected them from the intense heat as they crossed. They moved slowly, constantly checking the floor and the walls for traps. At the base of one set of rough-hewn stairs Locke uncovered a small chamber with several items of ancient treasure. Some of which probably dated back to the War of the Magi.

In one chamber, there were two passages leading out. Setzer very carefully began looking at the passage to the right.

"I see… I see the _Blackjack_," he whispered, and step by step his feet took him closer to the entrance of the passage.

"Setzer!" cried Sabin, who launched himself at the gambler, wrapping his arms around Setzer's waist and yanking him away from the passage.

Once they were about a dozen feet from the passage, Setzer suddenly shook his head, and began coming to his senses.

"Thanks," he said, brushing himself off.

"Don't mention it," replied Sabin.

"What happened?" Edgar asked.

Setzer shook his head. "I'm not exactly sure. When I looked down the passage, I could see the _Blackjack_, as though it was only a hundred feet away. As soon as I recognized it, I had the feeling that I needed to leave. That this passage led me to safety, away from danger."

"Who knows what it would have done to you," muttered Locke.

"I don't think anything harmful," commented Terra, drawing everyone's eyes to her, "I can feel Esper magic laced within the passage, but there's no harmful energy there. I think it may very well be a way out of here. A way to draw people away from the gate."

"Then we must be getting close," Sabin realized. "We need to be careful."

Nearly three hours after having first entered, after climbing rocky stairs, crossing more bridges over boiling lava, the passage the young heroes were traveling in suddenly opened up into a new cavern.

There was a ledge less than twenty feet wide, and it ended in a sheer drop into a chasm whose bottom was concealed in inky blackness. The chasm was nearly a hundred feet across. A pair of massive doors, each more than fifty feet high and made of some kind of strange silvery-gold metal, were built into the stone wall on the far side. A bridge of blue crystal with railings of pale stone ran from the ledge to the doors. The ceiling emitted a soft golden light, as if the sun was shining overhead. Gentle wind moved through the chamber, though it howled as if it was a much more violent gale. Every few moments thunder rumbled from the bottom of the chasm.

Terra could feel her skin tingling like it never had before. Though she did not realize it, he form began to shift. Her clothes and features seemed to melt away as they turned to a glowing pink skin, her eyes shifted until they seemed to be green crystals, and her hair swayed in the chamber's breeze.

"It's time," she said, her voice sounding as though a dozen people were speaking at once. Terra then began to move across the bridge, her hair seeming to whip about as though she had entered an area of gale-force winds. Yet she remained unmoved.

"Espers," she intoned, "hear my plea…"

Horrible, screeching laughter echoed from the passage behind them. All of the young heroes spun around.

Kefka was at the front of nearly 50 Dragonstorm troops. The painted madman was laughing maniacally.

"Kefka!" growled Sabin, and the other Returners drew their weapons, closing ranks in front of the bridge.

"You… you followed us?!" Terra cried, unable to believe her eyes.

Kefka's cackling laughter echoed through the chamber. "Gestahl was right! The man is sometimes an old fool, and sometimes an old genius! He knew that all we had to do was allow you fools to save pretty little Terra. Once she fell into your hands there would be no other choice but for you to open the gate! All of our work over the last two decades will be fulfilled by you! You will give us the gift of the Espers. Mwa hahahaha! How does it feel, little Terra, knowing that once again you've been working for the Empire?"

Terra didn't know what to say. She could feel her mother's oath, deep in her own heart; never serve the Empire, never serve Gestahl. Yet here she was, duped into doing their deeds. Tricked into getting them what they wanted. The fires of her rage burned deep within her heart, it was all she could do to not take the fire and destroy everything around her.

But there was still something she could do.

"Hold them off!" she cried, then turned back to the gate.

"Forward!" cried Cyan.

"Kill them!" roared Kefka.

The two forces launched themselves forward at the same moment, and they crashed into each other like waves against a cliff.

Locke's knife tore through one soldier's throat, then he spun around that man, a second dagger appearing in his hand as if by magic, slicing across the inside of another soldier's leg. The fountain of blood showed his aim had been true. Cyan was a maelstrom; not even Dragonstorm troops could match his swordsmanship. Three fell to him in the blink of an eye. Two more were pierced by steel quarrels from Edgar's autocrossbow, and then the Doman knight moved deeper in the ranks of the Imperials.

Setzer's razor-edged cards found throats and eyes and arteries. Other tosses sliced the straps holding the soldier's armor, causing chest plates and links of chain to fall off, leaving the soldiers vulnerable to the gambler's allies. Mog stayed between Setzer and Edgar, his spear impaling any Dragonstorm soldier foolish enough to try and get close to the two providing cover fire.

Sabin was as unstoppable as Cyan; his blows shattered bones left and right. A kick smashed armor and ribs of one soldier, a punch to another sent splinters of bone from the nose into the man's brain, another soldier charged and had his neck snapped for his effort. Sabin held no weapon other than the short claws on the gauntlet, he needed no weapons. The training of the Dragonstorm Legion could not match the ancient techniques of the Ironhand.

At Cyan's initial command, Gau had leapt straight at Kefka, heedless of any other enemies. He tore into the madman with taloned hands and teeth like a predator's fangs. His fists hammered into Kefka as though trying to punch through the man. With a roar of rage himself, Kefka tore the boy off and hurled Gau into the rock face. Gau tried to rise, but slipped back down.

"Filthy creature," Kefka said, unable to be heard over the din of battle, "it's a shame I didn't toss you into that chasm or I… arghhh!"

A bolt of lightning had erupted from Locke's finger to strike the madman in the back.

"You fool!" spat Kefka.

Fire formed in the madman's hand and he hurled it at the rogue. The blast knocked Locke onto his back. Three Dragonstorm troops swarmed him, but Cyan was there, cutting through the less-skilled soldiers.

Kefka growled, but Sabin was suddenly in front of him, fists lashing out, striking that weak point in Kefka's side. The madman howled, drew his sword and swung at Sabin, who dodged to the side, then stepped back in. Kefka swung again, but Sabin blocked Kefka at the wrist, grabbing and twisting, opening Kefka's body for a knee to the stomach, then a palm strike to the chest, backhand to the face, spin, elbow to the sternum, reverse spin, kick to the ribs.

Kefka went flying back, howling with pain and rage. Sabin moved to follow him, but then soldiers were again in his path.

Kefka looked around, taking stock of the situation. The fifty soldiers he'd brought with him were among the best in the Dragonstorm Legion, but they were outclassed. Sabin and that Doman fool were wounded; shallow cuts covered their faces, and blood trailed down Sabin's right leg, staining his pants. Cyan was holding his shield weakly, but his sword arm appeared uninjured. That little animal and the rogue were hurting, but the latter was still fighting. Even Edgar and Setzer were protected by the little white rat with its oversized spear.

It was then that Kefka noticed that Terra was still standing in the same spot on the bridge.

* * *

Terra could hear the din of battle raging behind her, but she had to put it out of her mind. She didn't know if her friends were winning or losing, who was alive and who was dead. All that mattered was the gate before her, and what lay beyond.

Power surged through her. For the first time she recognized this power as her own; she knew she had changed form like the others had told her about. But now she controlled herself. She was not being controlled by the Esper in Narshe nor by Ramuh. She was Terra, daughter of Maduin and Madonna, and she was about to unleash her fury.

"Espers," she muttered, sending the thoughts past that door with her own power. The gate and the air itself began to vibrate. "Please, heed my call. I am the daughter of Maduin, taken from your world on the same day the humans of the Empire took our people from our home and slaughtered my mother. I seek, I plead for your aid. Those who were taken have passed, giving themselves to us as Magicite. They were drained of all power, used to fuel the war machines of Gestahl's Empire. They threaten the world, they threaten my friends, and they seek to harness me to rule the world. An army waits outside the city of the Empire, to fight at your side if you will give your aid. Please, we cannot do this alone."

The doors of the gate suddenly flew open, as though they had been wrenched apart. Terra screamed as _something_ entered her mind. Her entire past flashed before her eyes; bits and snippets, some drawn out to be painfully slow, others passing so fast that she could only dimly make out what was happening. Her mother, her father, Gestahl, Kefka, Locke and Edgar and Sabin and the others. The slave crown and Arvis and Banon. Planning the attack, what she had envisioned of the Magitek Research Facility from the description by the others. Espers hanging limply in the vats that drew their power…

A scream of rage tore through Terra's mind. This was like nothing she'd ever experienced. This was a hate that would see the entire world burn for the crimes of humanity. This was a hate that would break the planet into pieces. This was a rage that no human would every be capable of feeling. This was the rage, and hate, of Espers.

And this time, the might of the Espers would not be denied.

* * *

"Terra! Look out! Something's coming!" yelled Sabin. He'd turned from the battle when he heard the doors of the gate slam into the stone walls, just like everyone else there. The passage behind the gate glowed with energy. Power began to build in the lifestream.

"I… I'm so excited!" squealed Kefka.

The air itself began to quiver, and then they came. One, two, four, a dozen, more. Espers. They flew from the passage past the gate, air and ground trembling in their wake. Sabin couldn't be sure, but they looked pissed. Enough so to destroy anything in their path, and they were doing they could.

Fire and ice and lighting and power of every kind imaginable rained down upon them. Dragonstorm troops died quickly, the power was focused on them.

"NO!" cried Kefka, "You can't destroy them! I need to harvest you! Nooooo!"

Kefka's cry echoed down the passage, as a massive winged reptilian of an Esper sent a wing crashing into the madman, smacking him down the passage. The Returners dodged blasts of energy and swooping Espers.

Through it all, despite the destruction raging all around, Terra had not moved from where she knelt on the bridge, grasping her head in her hands.

The bridge took one more blow, and cracks began to run down the entire length. Bits and pieces began to fall. The bridge would only last a few more moments.

"Terra!" yelled Locke, who began to move for her.

Edgar grabbed him by the shoulder and held him back. "No! You'll never make it in time!"

Sabin raced forward, ignoring his brother's sudden cry. The railing looked like stone, he hoped it would hold up under his plan. The bridge was cracking and shattering all around him. If it would just last a few moments longer…

The floor beneath Terra gave way, and dropped her into the chasm. Sabin suddenly leapt into the hole a split second after her.

"TERRA!"

"SABIN!"

The rest of the crystal bridge finally collapsed into the darkness, and the final Esper roared through the cavern and down the passage. The doors to the gate clanged shut and the ground rolled and heaved. Cracks appeared in the ceiling above the gate and boulders crashed down from above, burying the gate behind them. The gate to their world would never open again.

"Terra!" cried Locke again when the ground stopped moving. He raced to the ledge and looked out into the chasm, then choked back a cry.

The others joined him, and saw Sabin, dangling from a rope attached to his waist that he'd hooked onto the stone railing that still somehow crossed the chasm. Terra was hanging limp in his arms.

"Hey guys!" called Sabin, his voice sounding strained, "Any help you could offer would be greatly appreciated. And now is as good a time as any!"

"Mog," said Edgar, "can you fly?"

"I have wings, kupo," said the Moogle as if that explained everything, "I fly. Fly well. Of course I fly."

Cyan drew two lengths of rope from his pack, and Locke grabbed them, quickly splicing them together before handing one end to the Moogle.

"Fly this over there," directed Edgar, "tie it around Terra's waist. Make sure it's tight and snug. Follow Sabin's direction if need be, I'm sure he knows knots. When its done, let us know. Sabin will let go of her, but we need you to prevent Terra from hitting the rock below us too hard. Then we'll pull her up."

"Kupo!"

Mog took off immediately and his small wings beat so fast that they were only a blur as he hovered and moved around Terra. They could see Sabin explaining how to secure her, but he spoke quietly enough that they couldn't make it out. Eventually, Mog signaled them.

Edgar, Locke and Cyan all took hold of the rope, the Doman providing the anchor.

"All right, Sabin," called Edgar, "we're going to start pulling Terra towards the wall. Try and get her as close as we can before you let go. Are you going to be okay when you do let go?"

"I'll be fine."

Edgar blew out a breath. "Okay. Locke, Cyan, start pulling. Gently."

Slowly, the three men pulled Terra and Sabin closer to the ledge. Mog hovered around them, flitting from one side to the other. At about twenty feet from the wall, they couldn't pull Terra any closer, and Sabin let her go. Despite Mog trying to pull on the rope to prevent her from hitting the wall too hard, Terra bounced harder against the rock than anyone would have liked.

"Do you have her?" asked Sabin, swinging gently over the chasm, one hand holding the rope he hung from.

"We've got her!" replied Edgar.

Sabin nodded, then began climbing his rope back to the railing. After a few moments, Edgar and Locke pulled Terra onto the ledge. By then, Sabin had reached the railing, unhooked himself, and began sliding towards the ledge, hanging beneath the railing by his hands and knees.

Edgar held his hands over Terra's limp form. They glowed with soft green light. By the time Sabin made it back to the ledge, Terra was blinking and began to sit up.

"What happened?" she asked.

"We should be asking you that," replied Locke. "You pretty much collapsed on that bridge. We almost lost you there. What happened to you?"

"I… I could feel the Espers," Terra replied, her body beginning to shift back to normal, "I could feel their anger, their hate. I felt their need for revenge. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. Hotter and more uncontrolled than anything I could possibly describe. What about the Espers? Where did they go?"

"Back out the passage," answered Setzer with a nod of his head. "They ripped apart the remaining Dragonstorm troops, but I'll bet that Kefka made it out alive."

"That bloody maniac will survive anything," muttered Locke.

"Come on!" cried Terra, rising to her feet, "We have to follow them. They'll be on their way to Vector right now, and I don't know if they'll make any distinction between Imperial and Returner. There was overwhelming rage against humans. I'm not even sure what they'll think of me."

She staggered on her feet until Locke and Edgar helped steady her, then Sabin came up from behind and easily picked her up.

"Let's go," he said, then started walking forward.

"Take the passage that had captivated Setzer," explained Terra, "I think's its magic is merely designed to get people out of the caverns."

Gau and Cyan took the lead, the boy having swallowed a pair of healing potions to get rid of some of the ache in his head. The two of them walked through without hesitating, and the rest followed. There was a flash of blue light, and suddenly they found themselves just on the outskirts of the small woods where they'd hidden the _Blackjack_.

"Hurry up!" called Setzer, "Let's get going."

They raced into the woods until they reached the clearing where the _Blackjack_ still lay quietly.

"Janson! We're coming aboard! Prep engines for take-off!"

"Aye, skipper!"

They raced up the boarding ramp at the rear of the airship, and the ramp hadn't even closed before the _Blackjack_ lifted off the ground. Setzer raced through the ship with the others on his heels, shouting "Ladder up!" and "Make a hole!" accompanying their race to the deck. By the time they made it topside, Janson had already brought the _Blackjack_ to cruising altitude.

"Where to, cap'n?" asked the mate.

"Vector," was Setzer's short reply. He turned when Janson didn't relay the order. "Question, Janson?"

"With all due respect, skipper," Janson began, then hesitated a moment before continuing, "I don't think that's the best thing for us. There were creatures, maybe fifty or more that came streaming outta the sky. They were aimed straight for Vector and they looked fighting mad. Those were Espers, weren't they?"

"Yes they were," answered Terra, now standing with one hand on Sabin's shoulder and the other on the railing. "They came because I called for them, and they may very well destroy Vector. We can't let them kill so many innocents."

"Again, with all due respect ma'am, didn't you think of that _before_ going and calling them back into the world? The skipper's told me about the research facility, and the Espers that've died and given you their power. Didn't you think the Espers might be ready to wreak havoc on the ones that did it to their friends?"

"Janson," said Setzer softly, "you're my good friend, and I value your opinions more than any other. We should have, but we didn't. We need to get to Vector."

The first mate nodded, but didn't look happy. "And if the Espers decide to take out their anger on the ship?"

"Then we do what we can," was Setzer's simple answer.

Janson nodded dourly, then grinned. "Why couldn't you have stuck to gambling with money, skipper? Set course for Vector! All ahead full! Move it, worms, or you'll be taking over the cleaning of the bathing suites from the maids!"

Men leapt into action, tying off ropes and stoking furnaces while the adventurers made their way below deck.

"How long until we reach Vector?" asked Edgar.

Setzer briefly thought about, his head bobbing from side to side. "At full speed, no stops… three hours. It's very rare that I take the _Blackjack_ to full speed, it's hard on the engines. They'll be fine, maybe they'll need an hour to cool down."

"So how fast do you normally fly this thing at?" wondered Locke.

"About two-thirds her max if I'm moving quickly," Setzer answered, "and the engines go at half speed for normal cruising."

"You mean to tell us that the whole time since we've met you we've been traveling at _half_ speed?!" Locke demanded.

"Would you rather I burn the engines out?" was the gambler's retort.

"Enough!" growled Cyan, "There hath been much that has occurred this day. Now doest be no time to worry over the past."

The adrenaline that had been flowing in them for most of the morning began to leave them, making them all exhausted. Maids brought in a light lunch a half-hour later, and an hour after that Janson came down to inform them they had just begun to cross the eastern range of the Agroch Mountains.

Setzer took them into the main gambling hall to wait until they approached Vector, where he kept himself occupied with games of solitaire. Terra sipped at some tea as she watched Locke and Cyan pace back and forth across the hall. Edgar had his autocrossbow up on one of the tables and was cleaning and tinkering with it. Sabin and Gau stood up at one of the large windows on the upper walkway, while Mog kept a place on the floor next to Terra.

An hour later, a crewman came down to them.

"Captain, we're approaching Vector," he said, "Janson says we're about a half-hour away."

Immediately they all came to their feet and nearly trampled each other in their haste to get up on deck. As soon as they did, they could tell they were passing the last mountains of the Agroch range. Ahead of them lay the plains and woodlands, and slightly north of them they could make out the Iron Fortress.

Setzer climbed up to the rear deck and took the wheel from the crewman.

"Captain's bird," he cried.

"Captain's bird," acknowledged the crewman, who joined his fellows working one of the lines.

Setzer flew the _Blackjack_ along the edge of the mountain range, dropping down until he was near the summits. Terra stood on the bow, peering towards the Imperial city. Sabin and Edgar stood on either side of her. She was trying to see anything of the Espers, but could see no sign of them.

Something sparkled in the air above Vector.

"There!" she cried, "The Espers are here already!"

Sabin leaned forward. Power was again gathering, and they were right in the middle of it. He looked over to the right.

"Setzer! Dive!" he yelled.

Looking over at where the Ironhand was staring, Setzer caught a glimpse of blue and green shape just before it smashed into the _Blackjack's_ starboard side. The airship rocked and slung from side to side. Men screamed as a couple were thrown over the side from the impact, and everyone else skidded across the deck.

"More coming!" yelled Terra.

Setzer took a firm grip on the wheel. "Hang on!" he yelled.

A crewman just barely had enough time to ring one of the bells and then grab onto the railing. Espers swarmed the sky around the _Blackjack_, heedless of the airship in their midst. Setzer swooped and swerved, climbed and dived, zigged and zagged. It was a mad dash through the Espers, and not always successful. The airship buckled and shook each time it crashed with an Esper, sending everyone hurling across the deck.

Setzer was flying by the seat of his pants, and he knew that their lives depended on the old girl.

"Come on, sweetheart," he whispered fiercely, juking the _Blackjack_ to port to avoid a bestial-looking Esper, "come on, don't fail me now! I need you, sweetheart!"

He yanked up on the controls, pulling the airship into steep climb to avoid another Esper, then nearly flipped them upside down to dodge another flying his way. He could hear the engines groan and protest the rough handling. His ears picked up the sounds of support beams snapping the keel loosening. He never thought he'd have to put the _Blackjack_ through such stress.

"Skipper, we're falling apart!" yelled Janson.

"Don't worry, she'll hold together" was Setzer's confident reply. Then, under his breath, he whispered quietly. "Baby, please hold together."

Suddenly, the air was as empty as Espers as it had been only moments before. But they all let out breaths that they felt like they'd been holding for days.

Locke got to his feet, staring after the Espers as they flew off.

"Where are they going?" he asked to no one in particular.

Terra slowly rose from beneath Sabin. At Setzer's first evasive move, he'd grabbed her and held her and the railing as tightly as he could. She too watched the departing Espers, nodding her thanks to Sabin.

"They were… mad," she said, though the word could never truly express the emotion she felt from them.

"Yeah, just… slightly angry," agreed Locke sarcastically.

"And scared of something," added Sabin.

Terra looked at him strangely for a moment, but then nodded in agreement.

"Please," she whispered, trying to send out her thoughts and feelings to the Espers as she had at the gate, "please don't go. We still need you."

Suddenly, a loud snap echoed in their ears and the _Blackjack_ shuddered and dropped ten feet.

"What the…" began Locke.

"Damage report!" Setzer yelled at the top of his lungs.

Janson was speaking to several crewmen, calling some over and sending others away. The _Blackjack_ was still heading forward, but was losing altitude far too rapidly. Suddenly there was an explosion at the rear of the ship. Janson was at the stern railing in an eyeblink, peering down at the engines, one of which was trailing a line of black smoke in their wake.

"We've lost the port engine, cap'n!" he reported, "The lift bladder has two tears in it, we won't be able to make repairs until we're on the ground."

"That won't take long!" cried Locke.

Setzer's face firmed. "Janson, get the crew to the upper levels, evacuate the engine rooms. I don't have enough control of the ship to land safely. Tell them to brace for impact, we're going down hard."

"Aye, skipper!"

"To the stern!" ordered Setzer, watching as everyone made their way back. He knew he had to keep the weight on the rear. With the angle that the _Blackjack_ was diving at, it was going to be hard to bring the nose up, but hopefully with everyone at the back it could be done. Their lives were all in his hands.

_I will not let them die_, he thought to himself, _Not when the _Blackjack_ is my bird._

The next few minutes were tense. The _Blackjack_ kept losing altitude, and Setzer had been skimming the mountains. Now he had to pull away, closer to the plains before Vector. Slowly, the airship's bow rose. Setzer looked over the sides. He had less than a hundred feet to the ground now. He'd done his best to keep their speed under control. Now he had to trust his luck.

"Janson!" he yelled, "Landing struts!"

The first mate pulled a lever to the right of the wheel, and Setzer could hear the compartments open and extend the struts for when the _Blackjack_ rested on the ground. Setzer could only hope they didn't snap off.

"Brace for impact!" he yelled.

The first contact with the ground was an angry, hard bounce that shook everyone to their core. Three more bounces put the _Blackjack_ firmly on the ground, but still moving forward at high speed. Setzer dialed the starboard engine to full reverse, then immediately had to fight the wheel that wanted to spin and send them out of control.

"Just another minute, sweetheart," Setzer whispered to his ship.

Their speed slowed considerable, though the _Blackjack_ shuddered and shook violently. A small copse of trees appeared before them, and Setzer cursed to himself. However, the impact against the trees, although flattening them, allowed the _Blackjack_ to finally slow to a stop. One last _crack!_ sounded, and the ship listed to one side. Setzer knew that one of the landing struts had finally snapped.

Setzer stopped to look around. The others were picking themselves off the deck, massaging shoulders and arms. Janson was already ordering crewmen to the lower decks to do a full shutdown of the engines and put together a comprehensive list of the damages. Setzer looked at them proudly. They had done a damn fine job. Then he rested a hand on the wheel.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered to his ship. "You brought us down safely. You did great."

"Is everyone all right?" asked Sabin, looking out over his friends and the crew. The replies were positive, only a few injuries, most of them a dislocated shoulder or elbow from where a person had tried to grab a railing. One crewman had a broken ankle, and that was the worst of it.

Terra moved over to that crewman, holding her hands above the ankle, and a soft green light spread from her hands to the man. Bones moved back into place and knit themselves in seconds. Sabin helped those with dislocations, quickly popping shoulders and elbows back into place. A chorus of sharp cries followed him at the quick pain of fixing the injury.

"All right, listen up," said Edgar, gathering the others around, "the Espers just came out of Vector, and I don't see Returner forces in the area. Fires are burning in the city, so I think we need to check out what happened there."

"Let's do it," agreed Terra. "We need to see what the Espers left standing."

"Janson, get working on repairs as soon as you can," ordered Setzer, "and lower the boarding ramp."

The first mate nodded and called out the orders, and the Returners hurriedly grabbed any gear they hadn't had on deck.

Once down the ramp, Sabin and Gau led them through the small woods to the north. Terra was silently praying that the Espers had not gone berserk, and that something good was still left there.

But as they emerged from the treeline, they could see the city. It lay three or four miles further on, but even from this distance the devastation was clear. Smoke rose from the city, and half of the Iron Fortress was gone. The eight of them stood only a few feet from the edge of the trees, staring silently at the carnage ahead of them.

"Oh… Ancients," moaned Terra, and tears filled her eyes.


	26. Chapter 24: Blood Price

Bloody Ancients

Here we are, another rapid (and long) update. I'm not sure how my chapters have expanded from 10-12 pages to almost 20 pages per update (single-spaced, of course). Please let me know if these are too long for everyone, and I'll break them up into two chapters.

Frozen Aura and Brendan, welcome back, always glad to hear from you. Frozen, you commented on Cyan, and I've had others comment that he should be a bit more bad-assed than I was portraying him. And I did want to indicate that he is an exceptionally skilled swordsman, better than any of the others with a blade. And as far as Locke and Cyan, I am only trying to portray the deepening friendships among the group. Whereas in the beginning, Cyan would hardly have spared a glance at a thief, the tribulations the group has gone through has begun to forge a deep bond among all of them.

As you can all clearly see, there is a direct correlation between reviews and updates. Hopefully everyone who reads this takes that lesson to heart. Without further ado, the chapter. Thank you… and enjoy.

* * *

The great walls of Vector had been torn asunder; large gaping holes left by blasts of energy from the Espers marked the formerly solid ramparts. The main gates of the city, each one made of solid stone three feet thick that required four gobruks each to open had been ripped apart. One door was smashed to dust, the other had half of it missing, the other half hung awkwardly from the wall.

Smoke rose from countless building, and fires still burned in every corner of the city. People scurried from one point to another, the citizens of Vector were blackened by smoke and soot even more than usual.

As the young heroes made their way through the southern portion of the city, a three story building on the side of the road collapsed in a jumble of logs and glass. People cried out, but others called back that the building was empty.

Returners had flooded the city, treating the injured or carrying them to healers, bringing buckets of water from the wells to douse fires, and working with the citizens to help get people out of the burning buildings. As the heroes passed, the Returners would look at them and nod in greeting, but there were no smiles of victory.

"Dear Ancients," moaned Terra, tears filling her eyes, "did they have no mercy?"

"Esper fury never pretty, kupo," Mog said gently.

"Why Espers do bad?" asked Gau, looking at his even smaller friend, "Pretty Miss Terra say Espers good."

"They were angry, Gau," said Sabin quietly. He looked around at the people scurrying about, trying to salvage what had been destroyed. "They were angry and they didn't care what they destroyed. There was no justice here. This was vengeance."

"Locke!"

They turned to see a young man with dirty blond hair about the same age of the rogue come running up.

"Dace?" gasped Locke, who grabbed the other man in a firm embrace, "By the Ancients, Dace, I hadn't seen you since Mt. Kolts. I never saw you in Narshe, I thought you'd been killed."

Dace shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint. I got into Narshe with my squad just as Setzer was making one of his runs down to Albrook. Banon gave us orders to board immediately. I heard you guys were heading to the Esper gate." He looked around briefly.

"Looks like you found it," he breathed.

"Dace, where's Banon?" asked Locke.

The other Returner nodded. "Follow me. Banon and Arvis have set up a temporary headquarters just outside the Iron Fortress."

The young man led them straight through the city towards what remained of Gestahl's once invincible stronghold. Closer to the heart of the city the devastation was even worse. Bodies were strewn about; most of them wore the uniforms of Imperial soldiers, but civilian bodies could be counted among them as well. Some were killed by the magical energy of Espers, others were cut down by a sword or torn apart with claws.

The Magitek Research Facility had been flattened. Not a single beam rose from the ground, and one of the smaller chasms that led into the tunnels far beneath the city could be seen as a gaping wound in the earth.

Near the main gates of the Iron Fortress, a small command tent had been raised, guarded by a small contingent of Returners armed with Figaran repeating crossbows. Dace led them over, where they could see Banon kneeling in the dirt next to the tent. He held his hands above the shoulder of an Imperial citizen. Green sparks passed between Banon's hands and the man's shoulder; the mangled bones repaired and set themselves in moments.

The man rose and bowed deeply to Banon. "My gratitude, General. I'm glad to see that your opposition to the Emperor did not dim your compassion."

"Never, sir," replied Banon. He then spotted the group. "Now, return to your family and make sure they're all right."

The man thanked Banon again and hurried off. As the party approached, Arvis emerged from the command tent.

"Locke! Terra!" he cried, "You're all right!"

Banon looked to their guide. "Thank you, Dace. Return to your squad, make sure they get some rest."

"Yes, General," he replied, then smiled at the group and hurried off.

"What happened here, Banon?" asked Terra breathlessly.

Banon shook his head gently. "We can't be certain, exactly. Scouts called out that they spotted the Espers only moments before they would have reached Vector. We assumed you had been successful so we ordered our forces into the city. By the time we had the Returners marching out of the forests and down through the last of the mountain passes… there was nothing we could do. The Espers were in a raging fury, destroying everything before them. I had to order everyone to hold off on the assault. Fire and lightning ripped entire streets to pieces, blasts of wind sent people scattering. Some people were turned to stone before our very eyes and smashed by other Espers.

"Once the Espers were finished with their rampage and took off, I ordered the Returners into the city to save as many people as we could. We have won, my friends. Gestahl's power has been broken this day… but I would not say that this is the way that I would have liked to claim victory."

"This is all my fault," sobbed Terra, "if I hadn't asked the Espers for their help…"

Sabin put and arm around her and she cried into his chest. Locke and Edgar both put a hand on her shoulder to offer their support, and Gau and Mog wrapped themselves around her legs, nearly causing her to stumble. She tried to chuckle, but it came out more as a hiccup.

"It's not your fault, Terra," said Locke earnestly. "From what you said, you barely got a chance to ask for help and no chance at all to explain what we needed. They took what you said and twisted it to their own desires."

Sabin nodded. "Locke's right. The Espers made their own choices. It is they who must accept the punishment of their consciences."

"Make way! Clear a path, you buffoons!"

They turned to the sound of the voice. Eyes narrowed and hands reached for weapons at the sight of the man who approached them. He was dressed in voluminous scarlet robes, the hood and hems trimmed in black velvet. A bone-white mask covered the upper half of his face, showing his beady black eyes. The man looked over all of them, his gaze cold and evaluating.

Cyan drew his sword and held it at the man's throat, who paid about as much attention to the blade as he did to the repeating crossbows that were aimed at his chest.

His eyes settled on the party.

"Are you the Returner leaders who have fought so hard?" he asked, "From Doma to Narshe to the Esper gate?"

They remained quiet for a moment before Banon spoke up loudly on their behalf.

"They are indeed."

"Who art thou?" demanded Cyan.

The man glanced at the Doman knight and almost casually dismissed him. "I am the Mouth the Emperor, the Chancellor of the Iron Fortress. Emperor Gestahl is expecting you in his throne room. You will follow me."

The chancellor turned on his heel and began to walk away. Cyan's sword was quivering as he had to refrain from running the man through.

"Banon, what did…" began Edgar.

"I cannot face Gestahl," said the aging general, "not when we used to be friends in truth. That friendship was sundered long ago, and it would only interfere in what must be done from this day forward. Gestahl and I are both of the past. You are the future. Go and do what you have all done from the beginning; make the future a better world than the one we have lived in."

"What if it's a trap?" insisted Edgar.

Banon shook his head but it was Terra who spoke. "I don't think it is. If it was a trap he'd use a better lure than his own chancellor. I think he'd try to be a bit sneakier about it. Besides… I have to see him. He's the man behind all this mess."

And under her breath, just for herself, she whispered, "I have to see the man who murdered my mother."

One by one, each of them nodded and turned follow the chancellor, who waited for them just within what remained of the main gate into the Iron Fortress.

Cyan could not get over the size of the fortress. Doma Castle had been a formidable citadel in its own right, but this edifice dwarfed the castle he had defended for thirty years. Despite its size, it lacked any sense of comfort. Edgar noted the walls were bare of any decorations or artwork, aside from the occasional portrait of Gestahl or a depiction of a military battle. Rugs of a rough material were laid down in the halls, stained almost black from the soot dragged in by hundreds or thousands of feet every day.

Imperial soldiers stood guard at every doorway, and teams of two or three patrolled the corridors. Nobles walked past in groups, talking quietly while escorted by Imperial officers. Some of the Imperial soldiers and nobles glared at the Returners, spitting and cursing. Surprisingly though, these were in the minority. Most of the soldiers simply gave them cool looks without any overt hostility.

Eventually, the chancellor led them to a set of massive doors. They were made of some kind of black stone, with intricate scrollwork decorating the columns that protruded from the doors. Two of the four Dragonstorm troops guarding the doors opened them for the chancellor and the group, and the Returners gasped.

Gestahl's throne room was at least twice the size of the one in Figaro Castle, yet seemed less ornate. It was less a king's room and more of a general's. A single red carpet, clearly of Mirandan design led from the doors to the throne. The walls were gray stone with the occasional piece of ironwork decoration.

Standing on either side of the carpet were nearly a hundred of the most powerful members of Vector's noble families. At least, the most powerful of those who had survived the Esper attack. Their clothes were even darker and more smudged with soot than normal for the city, even those whose tunics and capes were nearly solid red or green or blue or yellow. In Vector, the nobles displayed their rank by how much color they could wear and keep clean in the dirty city.

Ignoring the nobles, the chancellor led the Returners forward, closer to Gestahl's throne. The nobles slowly parted for the advancing party. Mutters, curses and spitting came from all sides.

"Should we hail the conquering heroes?" one of the nobles nearly spat.

As the Returners approached, they could see that one of the nobles, probably the most influential of those who'd assembled, was speaking fiercely to Gestahl. The Emperor, in turn, was giving the noble a polite, attentive smile and nods at the man's words. However, when the Returners had just about reached the base of the throne, Gestahl waved the man away.

The noble fell silent instantly, bowed and made his way down from the throne, but not before spearing the young heroes with a scathing glare.

"My lord Emperor," intoned the chancellor, "I present to you the Returners, as you have commanded. Terra, daughter of Madonna Branford. Locke Cole of Kohlingen. Edgar and Sabin Figaro, the Brother Kings. Cyan Garamonde, Retainer of Doma. Gau, of the Veldt. The Wandering Gambler, Setzer Gabbiani. And a Moogle whose name I have not yet discerned."

The chancellor bowed deeply as he finished the introductions.

Gestahl nodded then looked over at the assembled nobles. "Leave us. I have things to discuss with the Returners. Prepare yourselves for tonight's ball."

Sullenly, the nobles obeyed, sending scathing glares at the heroes. When at last the doors to the throne room were closed, Gestahl rose from his throne and came down the steps to join the Returners.

Terra watched him approach with a sense of trepidation. This was the man who had murdered her mother and imprisoned her father as a living battery. He was not much different than she remembered. What little brown had been in his hair in her memories was gone now, replaced by snow white.

"Before you say anything," he began, "I welcome you to Vector, not as enemies, but with open arms. I want for you to know that as of today, I am ordering a halt on all of the Empire's expansion and conquest of other parts of the world. I know that you cannot possibly trust me after all that has happened, but… I have lost the will to fight."

Locke's mouth dropped open and the others looked at him with suspicion. They could see that the Emperor's shoulders slumped more than they could have imagined, but after twenty years, it was hard to believe.

"You expect us to believe you?" commented Edgar, voicing what he was sure the others thought, "After so many years of conquest, so many thousands killed, you're going to hang up your weapons, just like that?"

"The Emperor has had a change of heart," insisted a new voice. Everyone turned to see Cid Highwind come from a door on the side of the throne room.

"Cid," greeted Gestahl with a nod.

"Gestahl," returned Cid, smiling.

"What are you doing here?" asked Locke, amazed that the person he might finally get a few answers from about Celes was really here.

"I told you I would stay," replied the scientist, nodding to the Figaran brothers and Cyan, "and now we can end this war."

"Professor," said Sabin calmly, "what happened?"

Cid took a deep breath and sighed. It took him several tries to begin to speak. "When the Espers arrived, they made their way straight to the Magitek Research Facility. They were looking for their comrades. When they could find none of them, the shrieks of grief and rage echoed throughout the city. Then the Espers leveled the facility turned their wrath on the rest of Vector. It will take years to salvage what remains of the city."

Terra felt sick to her stomach. She had done this. No matter what any of her friends said or how much Sabin would offer his silent comfort, there was nothing to change the reality that she had brought this upon them. All of the people who had died had done so because of her.

"I truly had no idea of just how powerful the Espers were," said Gestahl with a sigh. He looked at the ground for a moment, then looked up and clasped his hands behind his back. "If the Espers are not stopped, their power could tear the world asunder."

"So what do you want from us?" asked Locke suspiciously.

"We must convince the Espers that our war has ended," replied Gestahl, "and that no one wishes for any more violence."

"But Gestahl, you know that they will not listen to a human," argued Cid. "We have discussed this, and I still don't know…"

"That is a matter for later this evening, my old friend," interrupted Gestahl, "for now, I must invite all of you to a feast and formal ball this evening. It will celebrate a great victory; your victory."

"Why…?" began Setzer.

"We must show the nobles of Vector that we can indeed live in harmony," said Gestahl, answering the gambler's question. "At this point, they believe that there is still a war between us, and that the only options available are complete victory or utter defeat. Please, we still have several hours before the ball will begin. I beg of you to speak with the nobles and indeed, even the soldiers within the fortress. I believe that in speaking to you personally, they will understand that we are not so different from each other. Convince them that peace is the best course of action. You are all the future of this world, as are these nobles and my soldiers. Do what you can to forge a better future for everyone."

The Returners looked back and forth at each other, nodding slowly.

Terra turned back to Gestahl. She saw the look in his eyes, a look that showed he knew he'd been defeated. She could remember seeing the same look before; in the eyes of people whom she had help conquer. The survivors who knew nothing would ever be the same again. Perhaps… perhaps he wasn't as evil as she believed. Maybe he was simply a good man who'd given in to the corruption of his heart, had sacrificed his morals to do what he believed was right.

"We'll do it," she told him. There was a taste of bile in her mouth, the sickness at doing something for Gestahl. Her mother's oath was still as strong now as it had been during Terra's childhood. But Terra rationalized that she and the others were working _with_ Gestahl, not _for_ him.

Gestahl breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Tonight we will truly have something to celebrate. It is a formal ball, so if you wish, I can have my tailors provide…"

"That won't be necessary," interrupted Edgar. "We actually have plenty of clothes available on the _Blackjack_."

Gestahl nodded in agreement. "Very well. The feast shall begin at sundown. I look forward to seeing all of you there."

* * *

Terra was walking calmly through the Iron Fortress, her feet seeming to know exactly where she was going. Mog walked along beside her, using his spear as a walking staff. Its gleaming spike had deterred several soldiers from taking advantage of the fact it was only two Returners.

They had split up into pairs; Terra and Mog had taken the northern wing, while Locke and Edgar had taken the western, and Sabin and Cyan were going through the remains of the eastern wing of the fortress. The entire southern wing and part of the eastern wing had been attached to the Magitek Research Facility and had been decimated by the Espers' assault.

Setzer and Gau had returned to the airship on chocobos loaned to them by the Emperor, along with a company of Returner troops to guard the _Blackjack_. Setzer and Edgar had agreed to bring over the clothes that they had been given by Impressario at the Opera House, and that Terra could wear the gown Celes had worn.

"Who knows what kind of Magitek tricks Gestahl and his cronies could lace into a set of clothes?" Setzer had commented, "Better for all of us to go in with clothes that haven't been in Imperial hands. Even if Gestahl is genuine, his nobles have their own plots."

Setzer had also clearly been worried about the _Blackjack_, so no one had tried to convince him not to go.

Terra stopped for a moment, leaning against the wall so she could roll her ankle. She and Mog had been going through the fortress for the past few hours, speaking to nobles, servants and soldiers. Some of the latter had been extremely hostile, but it had given Terra the chance to see how much an enraged Moogle wielding a three-foot spike of steel could be intimidating. She hadn't even realized that Mog's teeth included razor-sharp fangs. But the hostile soldiers had backed off. Admittedly, Mog had been forced to send his spear through the leg of one soldier, but the _others_ had backed off.

"You okay, kupo?" asked Mog.

Terra smiled at him. After today, she swore she'd never underestimate the Moogle. "I'm fine," she told him, massaging her ankle.

A scream of rage came from the room next to her. Curious, Terra quietly slipped into the room, followed by Mog. A series of prison cells lined the far wall, and within one just to the left, Kefka paced back and forth.

Mog snarled but Terra pulled him back and quieted the Moogle. She watched Kefka for a few moments. His lace ruffles were stained with blood and the make-up that adorned his face was smeared, making him look like an even more villainous parody of a clown.

"How dare they," Kefka muttered to himself. "How _dare_ they! They will pay, they will suffer. They will all suffer. I will be free. I will break them, crush them, hear them whimper and cry and beg."

Kefka continued on his tirade for several more minutes. Terra finally had enough and slipped out of the cell block with Mog. She was quiet during their walk back to the main part of the fortress, and Mog did not intrude on her thoughts. She couldn't imagine how Kefka had gotten here as quickly as they did, or why the Espers hadn't killed him. Terra was sure he had been a part of the memories that the Espers had seen in her mind.

"Hey, Terra!"

She looked up and around, spotting Locke and Edgar hurrying over to her.

"Well, we may not be in quite as dire straights as I'd thought," said Edgar, "most of the soldiers and servants we spoke to were willing to hear us out."

"And Setzer's back with clothes for the feast," added Locke. He took in the somber faces in front of him. "Are you two okay? You look like a friend just died."

Terra shook her head. "No, nothing like that. We saw Kefka."

"Kefka?" gasped both men at once.

"Where? Here? Did he hurt you?" asked Locke breathlessly.

"No, no. He's in a prison cell," she explained.

Edgar looked thoughtful. "There's another piece of the puzzle, but I don't have enough pieces to figure out what's going on. But something is not right. We'll have to ask about it. But come on. A servant showed us where our rooms are so we can change for the feast."

"Why are you so eager for the feast, Edgar?" asked Terra.

Edgar flashed her that same heart-melting smile as when he'd first met her. "Well, beautiful, I can't allow the ladies of Vector to think that the rumors about the King of Figaro's prowess are false. I have a reputation to uphold."

The other three shared a laugh as they walked down the corridor.

* * *

Banon was alone in the command tent, having asked Arvis to perform an inspection of the Returners' forces in the city. He was to make sure they had enough food and water and places to stay for the night. It would be warm, but Banon didn't want his people camping on the side of the roads. Banon himself was working on some of his own figures; lists of casualties, food and water and shelter for Vector's citizens, the distribution of medical supplies to the injured.

Lamps lit the room in the fading sunlight, and Banon was so intent on his task that he didn't realize he had a visitor.

"Just like old times, isn't it."

Banon turned from the desk, his eyes widening as he saw Gestahl in the tent entrance.

"Casualties, planning for the future, caring for people in a way I could never quite grasp," continued Gestahl, stepping forward, "and me wondering why you wasted so much time when there was work to do."

"And here I thought that Duncan was the one who hated having his time wasted," countered Banon.

Gestahl smiled, then chuckled quietly. "I owe that maniac. And you. I owed both of you so much, and I never fulfilled my end. You both sacrificed so much to save Vector, and I turned you both into enemies because of my… how did you put it, Banon? My obsession?"

"We had fought so hard, Gestahl," said Banon quietly, "so hard not just for survival, but for freedom. Duncan and I had hoped you would be a just ruler, but you took the freedoms of your people and stripped them away. You replaced freedom with tyranny."

"And friends with enemies," agreed Gestahl. He sank into one of the other chairs in the tent, and Banon sat down again as well. "When did it start, Banon? When did you start forming the Returners? Immediately? Or did you hold out some hope for me for a while?"

Banon frowned at the floor. "It took about a year before I realized you had changed. Irrevocably. That's when I began to lay the foundations. Duncan and I had found the cave system in Mt. Kolts a few years before we joined you against the Urthmen. When he disappeared into the mountains to start training the next generation I knew that it was the perfect place to hide."

"Hide?" repeated Gestahl, "Hide from who?"

"From you," Banon replied softly.

"I would never…" began Gestahl, then his voice hitched, and he was forced to take a deep breath. "I would _never_ have come after you or Duncan. Not like I did with other enemies. No matter what, the two of you were the only real friends I ever had. Even knowing you led the Returners, Banon, I could never have you killed."

"Not like Andris and Raehel?"

For a moment, Gestahl looked sick to his stomach. "I never ordered anything against Figaro. Never! Andris brought Figaro to save Vector in our hour of need, and I loved Raehel. I tried time and time again to convince her to leave Andris. He had no loyalty to their marriage. The highest noble of his land, daughter of a Jidooran merchant, or a scullery maid, it was no difference. For years I corresponded with Raehel, trying to convince her to come to me in Vector. Even after Edgar and Sabin were born, I still wanted her, and would have gladly taken them in as well. If she'd ever accepted, the brothers could very well have been raised as my sons."

Banon suppressed a shudder. He was suddenly glad that the relationship between King Andris and Queen Raehel had been stronger than mere sexual attraction. The idea that Edgar and Sabin could have been Gestahl's princes… it was a frightening thought.

"And Doma?" asked Banon.

"I had nothing to do with Doma," replied Gestahl, "I had sent Leo and Kefka to take the kingdom, to prevent King Gareth from sending any more funds to you. I had to recall Leo due to a small resistance group here in Vector. I never allowed Kefka or Celes to handle operations within the city. And had I known that Kefka planned to poison all of Doma I would have had him stopped. King Randal sacrificed himself to save Vector. I erected a statue in that very spot to honor his sacrifice. Every year on the anniversary of the battle, I go to that statue and talk. I ask myself if I am doing the right thing, if there is a better way. And every year I thank Randal, and Andris, and you and Duncan for the sacrifices you made to save my people."

"You should probably tell Cyan," Banon told him.

"Cyan? Randal's young Retainer?"

Banon smirked. "Not so young anymore. Cyan was barely ten years younger than Duncan."

"I thought their swordsman looked familiar," Gestahl said with a nod, "he went and grew a moustache."

"Looks just like a grown-up now," agreed Banon.

"Finally."

The two men looked at each other and chuckled.

"I have a lot to answer for," Gestahl said soberly. Banon nodded agreement but kept silent. "I wasn't sure whether you would accompany your young protégés into the fortress."

"We're the past, Gestahl," said Banon, "they're the future of this world. Eventually we have to hand over the power, and the responsibility, to them. You gave Celes and Kefka too much free rein to do as they pleased. Anything they did was done in your name and will be laid at your feet. The destruction of Maranda, the conquest of Figaro, the slaughter of Doma… all of these and more you will have to answer for. Plus you will still have your people to take care of."

"I know," said Gestahl heavily, then he looked over at a man he had once called his friend. "Will you help? Not with the crimes that have been committed in the name of the Empire. I know you would never stand by me on that. But for my people. You did more than me to help relieve the people after the Urthmen War. Will you help my people as you did before?"

Banon rose to his feet. There was little he would have done for his former friend, but Duncan's compassion had rubbed off on him over the years. _Burn you, Duncan_, he thought with a smile, _you're dead and yet your conscience is still making my life miserable_.

"I'll do what I can."

Gestahl held out his hand, and Banon took it. "Thank you, my old friend. Please let me know everything I can do. I have the finances, I am sure. But you need to tell me how to allocate them properly."

They held their handshake for several longer moments, looking into each other's eyes. The pain of the last twenty years of their private war had created chasms in their friendship, chasms that would likely never heal, despite both of their wishes. In time, they each knew they might one day be able to shed the other's title of "enemy." It would be enough of a start.

With a final shake of his hand, Gestahl turned and left the tent. Banon sat down heavily, and lost himself in his memories of good friends who had stood at each other's side for years. Of a time when three men, three heroes, took on the worst that the world could throw at them.

* * *

"I must say, Lady Terra," said one of the two attendants, "that this is an absolutely lovely gown. Jidooran make, is it? You will certainly turn the heads of noblemen this evening, even if you are a Returner. Have your companions seen you in a gown like this?"

Terra didn't answer the woman. When they had been shown to their rooms, the two attendants had been waiting for her, courtesy of Lady Adenia, or something like that. They had already heated a bath and had shampooed and brushed her hair, then helped her into the gown. They said they were only there to be of service to the sole female Returner.

However, it was clear from the beginning that they had been tasked to spy on her as well. Neither of the women had given their names, yet both had done everything possible to pry information from Terra. Innocuous questions, gasps of amazement and swooning at her companions… they tried to be subtle but were more than obvious in their intent. They tried to confirm that she traveled with the King of Figaro and the Retainer of Doma. They swooned at the mention of Locke, trying to confirm how high he ranked with the Returners, and tried to fake disbelief that Sabin was the Heir of Ironhand.

Terra remembered conversations with Edgar, when he had told her that the Figaran nobility did the same thing as this; currying favor and trying to find an edge over their rivals. Edgar had a very dim view of nobles, saying more than once that they were all power-hungry leeches.

She did have to admit though, that the woman was right about the gown. Although at first vaguely uneasy about wearing the same dress that Celes had worn at the Opera House, she found it had been a nearly perfect fit. Only a few alterations had been needed. She still felt far too exposed, but neither woman had said anything about how much flesh was visible.

"Thank you, ladies," she said as haughtily as she could manage, which wasn't much, "I will be sure to thank your lady for your help. Now if you will excuse me."

Both of the women curtsied as Terra walked out the door into the hallway, and stopped short. They men were there waiting for her, and her mouth went dry.

Edgar and Setzer she'd known were handsome men, and seeing them in elaborate finery was not much of a step up from their normal dress. Cyan always had a look of nobility about him that no clothing could disguise, but the military cut of his clothes seemed to magnify that aura. Gau and Mog were no different, except they had bathed, and Mog's fur was again as white as snow.

It was Locke and Sabin who she gaped at. Both wore Jidooran suits, but had no idea either man would look quite so good in them. Without his bandanna on his head, Locke's brown hair fell in waves about his face, making him even more roguishly handsome. And Sabin, shaved, his hair combed and held in a silver clasp, wearing the silver-trimmed black suit and shirt that matched his ocean-blue eyes looked positively dashing. Just like the prince he was. Terra smiled gently, knowing that Sabin was going to be getting more attention than he was comfortable with tonight.

"Hey, you clean up nice, sweetheart," said Edgar, with an over-exaggerated glance at her figure.

"You very beautiful, kupo!" cried Mog happily.

"Waroo! Gau agree!"

Locke tried swallowing past the lump in his throat. She wasn't Celes, not even in that gown. She was as beautiful as Celes, that was certain, if not moreso. But Celes was gone. That gown was just another reminder of all the betrayals; of everything this war against the Empire had cost him.

"Let's get this show on the road," said Locke.

* * *

The main ballroom was nearly the complete opposite of the rest of the Iron Fortress. The undecorated stone and metal was concealed here with gold and crimson curtains between pillars of black marble. The floor was tiled in polished, multi-hued stone that had been made completely smooth. The tables were of dark wood, the china trimmed in silver and gold. After the starkness of the rest of the fortress, this was almost overwhelming.

Off to one side, nearly two dozen musicians were playing a soft, welcoming melody. Nobles of Vector and some of the Empire's highest ranking officers occupied some of the tables already. Only one was nearly empty, and the Returners were brought there.

There were more than enough seats for all of them, and servants came as they sat, filling glass and crystal goblets with wine. As soon as they were all seated, a guard standing before the doors suddenly wrapped his ceremonial spear against the ground.

"Comes now the Protector of the South, the Lord of the Iron Fortress, the Emperor of the Civilized World!"

The doors opened and Gestahl entered, followed by four men who were dressed the same way as the chancellor had been who had brought them from Banon's tent. They came to the same table as the Returners and sat down. Gestahl ended up directly across from Terra, who was flanked by Locke and Edgar.

Conversations started up around them again as Gestahl and his advisors sat. From behind them, Cid hurried forward, taking a chair next to Cyan.

At the Doman's curious look, Cid told him, "I'd appreciate it if you would count me as a Returner from now on."

"I'd wondered how long you would be able to stay at my side after this, Cid," said Gestahl.

"After the Espers, after these young heroes raided the Research Facility," said Cid in explanation.

Gestahl nodded, then swept his gaze across the table to encompass all of the Returners. "Can you imagine?" he said, "If someone had told me a month ago that I would sitting down with you at the same table in my own fortress, sharing a meal with you, I would have said that person was insane."

He chuckled to himself, then turned to regard Edgar.

"King Edgar, and Prince Sabin."

"King Sabin," corrected Edgar.

"No, Ed," Sabin said to his brother, "I'm no king. I forsook the throne that night. A prince I was, and a prince I will remain."

Edgar nodded in understanding, leaving the others to wonder what the two brothers were talking about.

"The brothers of Figaro," said Gestahl, nodding, "I was good friends with your parents, Andris and Raehel. I wish they were still here. I could have used their advice."

"Our father was murdered," said Edgar hotly, "poisoned by an Imperial agent."

"Not on my orders," protested Gestahl, "I would never have given such an order. I was… enamored by your mother, and tried several times to woo her away from Andris with proof of his infidelities. But their love was too strong. Your father came to help in Vector's hour of need. No matter his opposition to me, I would never have ordered his death."

Edgar and Sabin looked at each other for a few moments, then nodded. Neither said anything.

"Enough of this sad business," said Gestahl, "King Edgar, we must have a toast. Shall it be to the fallen Empire? No no, that is foolish. How about to the victorious Returners?"

"Neither," said Edgar, raising his glass. "To our hometowns. For each of us is shaped by where we come from. We each love our home and fight to protect it. Our homes have made us who and what we are today. Without our homes, what would there be to protect? To our homes."

"Our homes," echoed everyone at the table.

Servants began bringing out plates of various southern dishes. Terra thought they looked absolutely delicious. A gurgling in her stomach reminded her that with all the day's activity beginning at the Esper gate, she hadn't eaten since dawn.

"Master Setzer," said Gestahl, turning to the gambler, "I regret to inform you that I am using Imperial privilege to dissolve my gambling markers and instead use all of the money I owe you to aid those who have been devastated by this catastrophe. The money shall go to food and homes."

Setzer grinned and shrugged. "Not like I was benefiting from your lack of payment anyway."

Gestahl next looked to Cyan. "Sir Cyan," he breathed, then looked at the knight for several long moments. "I remember you from the Urthmen War. You stood at the head of the knights of Doma and led them through the heart of the Urthmen to secure the gates of Vector. You grew a moustache."

Cyan absently rubbed his thick black moustache. "I didst grow tired of knights asking me if I was old enough to hold a sword."

Gestahl laughed quietly, looking at the others. "Your friend had quite the baby-face when he was younger. Sir Cyan, I would be honored if you would join me in a visit to the memorial I raised to honor the sacrifice of King Randal."

Cyan's head snapped up and he looked hard at Gestahl. The elder knight's bottom lip quivered for a moment and his eyes looked watery. Then Cyan took control of himself again and nodded gratefully.

"I wouldst be honored to join thee," he said finally.

"When the Espers arrived, one of them held Kefka in his claws," added Gestahl, "and threw Kefka through a wall during the Esper's rampage. It nearly killed him. Because of his crimes against Figaro, and particularly against Doma, I have had Kefka imprisoned. His crime against Doma is unforgivable. I never ordered its people slain. I leave his fate in your hands, Sir Cyan."

The Doman nearly shook with fury. Everything within him screamed to order Kefka executed.

_Is that what Elaine would have wanted you to do?_ a small voice asked him.

_This is not vengeance_, he shot back, _it is justice!_

_Really?_

Cyan sagged in his seat. "Kefka's crimes doth be inexcusable, but I shall not succumb to my grief and rage. Thou villain's greatest punishment wouldst be to remain in prison like any common criminal. Leave him there. Forever."

"I have already sent orders to my scientists," said Gestahl, nodding at Cyan's words. "They will begin preparing efforts to purify the waters of Doma and remove any trace of the poison that Kefka used."

Cyan nodded his thanks, and Gestahl finally turned to Terra.

"Terra," he said softly. It took several moments for Terra to bring herself to meet the older man's gaze. "I… I apologize for the pain I have caused you since childhood. My ambition blinded me to your suffering, and that of others. Please know that, in my own perhaps twisted way, I always considered you like a daughter. Please, Terra. Please forgive an old fool."

Terra swallowed hard. She had been ready to hate Gestahl. Hate him for being a faceless, heartless conqueror who cared for no one and nothing. But the man sitting before her was not as evil as she had believed. He was a man who had fought for his beliefs. He had gone past the realm of decency and justice, but Terra could not hate him. Gestahl's eyes were filled with unshed tears. In this moment, Terra could see the good man that Banon had often spoken of.

"I forgive you," she said in a whisper as tears filled her own eyes.

_Mother, I'm sorry. I can't hate him like I should._

"Speaking of daughters," continued Gestahl, dabbing at his eyes with his napkin, "there was another I considered like a daughter. Celes. I know about what Kefka told you at the Research Facility…"

"Celes is one of us," Sabin told him firmly. Terra looked at him, and thought Sabin's face could have been carved from a mountain. It was that hard, that solid, that unflinching. The others shifted uncomfortably at his words, as none of them had still been able to bring themselves to accept Sabin's explanations.

"Yes, I know," Gestahl said softly. "Celes came to realize that my war was foolish before anyone else. The slaughter of innocents weighed too heavily on her conscious. For these reasons, her joining of the Returners was genuine."

Locke felt his heart stop. Not miss a beat, but stop completely. It took him several moments to remember to breathe.

_Celes was genuine? That means, that means in the Research Facility… when she said Kefka was lying… she didn't betray us. Oh Ancients. Sabin was right. Oh Ancients, I've lost her. I betrayed her. You stupid, bloody… FOOL!_

Locke wanted to howl in agony and rage at himself, but managed to hold it to nothing more than a whimper. No one but Gau, sitting next to him, heard it. The boy looked at Locke with worried eyes, then leaned in and hugged Locke.

"Now," continued Gestahl, leaning back for a maid to replace his plate with the next course, "I am certain that you must have many questions for me. Please, I invite you to ask them."

"Why did you start this war?" Terra blurted out.

Gestahl smiled sadly, nodding to yourself. "I had a feeling that would be the first question. I think it all started, as my old friend Master Duncan would have said, with the best intentions. During the Urthmen Wars, there were so many different little kingdoms in the world. There was no standard for soldiers, no cooperation. They quarreled and fought so much and so often with each other that they were almost annihilated by the Urthmen. Vector was just one more petty kingdom among many.

"I realized that for us to survive against the Urthmen, and then later to survive in the world, that a single, unified nation was the best course of action. But it was my obsession with magic that led us down the dark road to Magitek and spurred my desire to conquer the world. With Magitek, my armies would be invincible and no one would think to stand in our way. A Magitek army could unite the world without the casualties that would be normal. I suppose I underestimated the hearts of my adversaries," he said chuckling.

"So why you want no more fight now?" asked Gau.

Gestahl smiled at the boy. "I have seen that I was stupid, my young friend. I saw the folly of my actions, and now the consequences of this war have become too dire. The Espers cannot be stopped alone. The Empire cannot stop the Espers. We need each other."

Sabin and Edgar's heads both snapped up and stared at Gestahl, then glanced at each other. Both were thinking the same thing. Had Gestahl just slipped? Had he just said that this was an alliance of convenience? Edgar looked across to Setzer, sitting on the far side of Gau. The gambler's eyes were narrow and he was thinking over something. Edgar hoped Setzer had caught it too. They were going to need to talk later about this development.

"So why is it that you wanted us to speak to your soldiers and nobles?" asked Setzer, his eyes narrow and voice controlled.

"It was my fear that some of people will not accept a peace between us," explained Gestahl, "but I thought that by meeting the Returners in person…"

"The entire movement is the Returners," protested Locke.

Gestahl raised an eyebrow. "Do you not know? Banon's warriors who line the streets are calling you the Returners. The name of their movement has fallen by the wayside. That name is now yours."

"We need to talk about the Espers," urged Terra. She nodded to a maid as the woman refilled her wine glass.

Gestahl sighed and nodded. "Vector has been decimated, and by extension the whole of the Empire has had its strength ripped apart. Their rage is uncontrollable. Unless the Espers are stopped, their power could tear the world asunder."

Terra nodded. "I agree. The Espers have gone too far… no matter how justified it may have been."

"When I saw my people being slaughtered, I knew that I could never continue with this war," Gestahl admitted, staring into his wine. "Every hour until I die, I know that I will ask myself why I started this war in the first place. That was your first question, correct?"

Terra and Locke nodded.

"I think everyone is beginning to look a little weary," commented Cid, drawing all eyes to him, "I think we need a break from politics."

Gestahl smiled. "You are right, old friend. We need music and dancing!" he called loudly.

The musicians instantly threw themselves into a lively dancing tune, and Edgar and Setzer rose immediately, each of them grabbing a beautiful young noblewoman and moving out to the dance floor. Two noblewomen came and collected Mog and Gau, the latter skipping along happily, telling the woman how pretty she was. Mog looked back at Terra, as though he was abandoning his charge.

Cyan rose and excused himself, moving past the dancers to get to the balcony overlooking a portion of the city.

Terra realized that only she, Gestahl, Locke and Sabin remained at the table. Even Cid had moved to speak to one of the nobles, gesturing excitedly. Terra noticed Sabin and Gestahl stare at each other for a moment, then turn away. Locke had turned into his wine and wasn't even looking around.

"My lord Ironhand," said a beautiful noblewoman, her gown showing even more skin than Terra's Jidooran outfit, "would you perhaps honor me with this dance?"

Terra watched, amused, as Sabin tried to fight down a blush. "Thank you, milady," he said politely, "but I am sorry, for I…"

"Have already promised to dance with me," said Terra, rising from her seat. "Come on, Sabin. An Ironhand is not going to break a promise, is he?"

Sabin smiled and rise, taking her arm. "Of course not, Terra. What kind of person would I be to go back on my word?"

The two of them walked out to the dance floor and Sabin immediately led her into the steps. Terra felt like a clumsy oaf, but Sabin kept control of the dance and Terra wondered if she looked like she knew what she was doing.

"Thanks for the save," Sabin whispered at one point as he pulled her in close.

"You're welcome," she replied, "and thanks for making me look good out here."

Sabin smiled in response, and the two of them passed the rest of the dance in silence. As the music slowed, Sabin pulled her in close and danced slowly with her. Terra closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being safe.

* * *

Gestahl watched as his younger adversaries relaxed for a few moments. It was natural for him to watch and evaluate, to judge their strengths and weaknesses.

Edgar's lecherousness was well-known to Gestahl. Edgar was truly his father's son. And if he wasn't careful, Edgar too would one day never appreciate what was right in front of him.

_Raehel, why couldn't you have left him? I would have loved you better than that fool ever could have!_

But Gestahl knew that Edgar was also at least as politically savvy as himself. Manipulating the Figaran would be difficult. The same was true of the gambler, Setzer, although his lecherousness and political skills were both lesser than Edgar's. Mere sexual favors would get nothing from them; they were both too canny for that.

The boy and the Moogle were of no consequence; neither would have any knowledge of politics or what they might be used for. Their only use was to manipulate the others. The Moogle seemed to have attached himself to Terra, and she cared for the furball.

Cyan was an interesting study. His rage at Doma's destruction was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, Gestahl could use Cyan's anger to get him to make rash decisions, but that anger could very well shift from Gestahl's intended target to the Empire. That made Cyan potentially volatile; a Magitek keg ready to explode.

Terra and Sabin's comfort with each other was an interesting development. Duncan had only had a weakness for one woman, Banon's younger sister, and his dedication to her had meant he hadn't even taken any tavern wenches to his bed during his journeys. Gestahl was sure that Sabin would follow a similar path. Whether the young man's connection with Terra was romantic or simply friendship didn't matter. The younger Figaran would be hard to manipulate. The cursed Ironhand Blitz gave him extraordinary insight into people. Duncan had been the same way. It had been a blessing before, now Gestahl knew it was a curse.

Terra had to be handled with care, Gestahl knew, as he watched her dance. He could see in her face that she'd despised the idea of speaking to the soldiers and nobles earlier. Her mother's oath was as strong as ever. Terra must never think she is working for him. Gestahl knew she must always see it as working for the betterment of all people, and happens to be working _with_ him.

Now young Locke… he was prime material. He had nearly exploded when the discussion had turned to Celes. The young man was clearly infatuated with her, and yet was extremely confused. Kefka's accusation and Celes' apparent sacrifice had left him questioning her, and by extension, himself. Yes… Locke could definitely be useful.

* * *

As dessert was being brought to the tables, the Returners slowly made their way back to the table. Gestahl watched them all, giving each a smile filled with gratitude.

"I hope the brief break has refreshed all of you," he told them, "now, is there anything more you wish for me to say?"

"We must hear you tell us plainly, without fancy words or loopholes, that this is over. That this war is fully in the past," Terra said.

Gestahl stared at her for several moments, nodding. Then he rose, and the din of conversations dropped to complete silence in seconds.

"I have an announcement to make," he declared, "that beginning now, from this days, this moment, that the Empire's war of conquest is over! The Empire will expand no more. From this day hence, I will practice the benevolence that I have preached and govern what remains with justice and wisdom. I will make myself worthy of having had the friends that I have lost. Peace will reign in the Empire, and in all the world!"

There was utter silence for several moments, then Terra began to applaud, followed by the other Returners. The rest of the assembled nobles and soldiers joined in with tentative applause, and as they did so, Gestahl took his seat again.

"Now that I have done as you asked, and as my conscience demands," said Gestahl, "there is one favor that I must ask of you now."

Locke sneered at Gestahl, knowing the Emperor's promise was too good to be true. He calmed down when Terra put her hand on his.

"As you know, after the Espers razed Vector, they fled," explained Gestahl, "and just prior to the ball, I received word via pigeon that they were seen by my scouts heading northeast, towards the deserted Crescent Isle. After the crimes that I have committed, it is my duty to set things right and convince the Espers that we are no longer at war. However, I fear that they will never again trust a mere human; especially the one who has been at the heart of their recent pain. Therefore, I must ask Terra for help. Only you can bridge the gap between our people and act as a mediator. I have a frigate waiting at the Imperial docks in Albrook. Please, Terra, will you help us end this once and for all?"

Terra experienced a moment of panic. All alone on an Imperial ship, with no way to escape… but what choice did they have? She couldn't allow the Espers to continue this way, not after what they did here, and with the _Blackjack_ out of commission for the present, there was no way to get to Crescent Isle on their own. To finish what she'd set out to do, she would have to work with the Empire.

A small part of her suddenly had a very bad feeling about all of this, but Terra quashed that thought, certain that it was just another protest due to her mother's oath.

"I'll help you," she said softly.

Gestahl bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you, Terra. I would not be able to make this atonement without you. I will have the finest warrior in the Empire join us on this quest as well. General Leo!"

One of the guards opened the door through which Gestahl had originally entered the ballroom and in strode a powerfully-built man. He was nearly Sabin's height, if not quite as broad. He wore a dark blue surcoat and a wide-bladed sword at his hip. His hair had been completely shaved except for a single strip down the center that fell back and to the side.

"My lord Emperor," he greeted with a bow as he arrived at the table. "Returners, I am General Leo of the Empire. It is my pleasure to meet you. Sir Cyan, I… please forgive me. I was tasked to take Doma Castle and I would have been honored to defeat you in battle. But I beg your forgiveness for not being there to stop Kefka's atrocity."

Cyan nodded proudly. "Blame lays not with thee. Thou couldst not know of Kefka's intent to slaughter my people. On behalf of King Gareth, I accept your apology."

Leo bowed his head in thanks, then turned to look at Sabin. "General Sabin, will you be accompanying us as well?"

Eyes widened and the Returners turned to look at Sabin. Shock and amazement filled them all.

Locke fought down a sense of betrayal. Had Sabin been an Imperial all this time? Had that been why he'd believed Celes? Why was Sabin just sitting there calmly? Why wasn't he protesting? Locke suddenly wished for a knife.

"Unfortunately," said Gestahl, "Master Sabin continues to refuse my offers to join the Empire."

"That makes him no less of a general, my Lord," commented Leo, "Sabin was a clever man at the age of 16, and with all the subsequent years studying with Master Duncan you should be downright brilliant by now."

Sabin remained silent, and Gestahl spoke again.

"I make my offer again, Sabin. Join the Empire. You will be made a general and have full discretion to train an elite corps of soldiers with the skills of the Ironhand. You select them, you train them, and you accept only the missions you feel are just."

"I refused you twice before, Gestahl," Sabin replied calmly, "and I refuse again. Though once again, the reason for my refusal is different."

"Farewell then, General Sabin," said Leo, who then turned to Gestahl. "Lord Emperor, with your permission, I will precede you to Albrook and prepare your escort."

Gestahl nodded, and Leo bowed deeply to all of them and left. Gestahl then looked at the Returners.

"You must all be tired," he said gently, "I have had rooms prepared for you while you remain in Vector. Please rest. The days to come will be no less busy than the days past have been."

Servants appeared, helping pull the chairs back from the table and leading the Returners back into the rest of the fortress. Five rooms within the same hall had been set aside for their use. These rooms obviously were typically reserved for nobles, based on the rich tapestries on the walls, the floor rugs and the four-poster beds.

After changing out of their formal clothes and into night robes, they gathered together in Edgar and Locke's room. Only Sabin was absent, having sent word through Cyan that he was going to meditate on the balcony in their room.

"I'm not sure I can believe that Gestahl has turned around so quickly and is now willing to work with the Returners," Terra said from her seat on one of the beds. She looked around at the others.

Cyan was standing near the door to the balcony, looking out over the city. Edgar and Setzer were seated on beautiful gold-encrusted chairs while Locke sat on his own bed with Mog. Gau was rolling back and forth on the floor.

"Waroo! We Returners! We Returners!" cheered Gau.

"I'm going to go with you, Terra," Locke said firmly, "I don't trust Gestahl as far as I can kick him. But I don't think any of the rest of you should come. Something's not right here, and you guys should really stay behind and do some investigating."

"I won't argue with that," agreed Setzer, "since it will take a while to get the _Blackjack_ up and running again."

Edgar nodded. "I agree with you, Locke. I can't figure out what's going on yet, but it was clear that Gestahl sees this only as an alliance of convenience."

"How could you know that?" asked Terra.

"Long years of experience in politics with my own nobles, sweetheart," he answered with a smile, "Gestahl talked a lot about how we need each other, how he needs to set this right. I don't think I heard him say once that he _wants_ to be our allies. I'm sure that if he could take care of the Espers himself, there would have been a squad of Dragonstorm troops waiting for us before we changed for the ball."

"However," Cyan quietly said from his position near the window, "the Gestahl of tonight doth be like the one I met at the end of the Urthmen War."

"Well we're not going to figure anything out while we're standing here," said Edgar, rising to his feet. "Cyan, Mog and Sabin will stay in Vector and try and figure out what's going on. Setzer, Gau and myself will work on getting the _Blackjack_ fixed as soon as possible. We'll see if we can get Cid to help us as well. Between us we should have the airship fixed in days."

A knock came from the door, and Locke quickly pulled a dagger from beneath a pillow, and Edgar leaned against the wall next to his autocrossbow. Setzer slowly opened the door, then stood aside to let one of Gestahl's chancellors enter.

"Well met again, Returners," said the man, "I am the Mouth of the Emperor. I am here to inform you that Emperor Gestahl was most impressed with how many people you were able to speak with this afternoon. For that and your impeccable manners at dinner, our noble Emperor has seen fit to reward you. As we speak, orders are being sent by pigeon to withdraw all Imperial Forces from both South Figaro and from Doma. The Imperial base that guarded the bridge to the Esper cave has been abandoned. It holds treasures taken from the Esper world. The Emperor offers these treasures to you. And to Lady Terra, the Emperor offers this relic of the Ancients from his personal stores as a gift."

The man handed over a bracelet that looked to be made of links of blue crystal. Each link was about an inch long and seemed to glow with a light of its own.

"Imperial research has identified the relic as that which was once called Tintinabar," explained the chancellor, "and it grants a phenomenal increase in the rate of healing. Injuries that should take weeks to heal are cured in mere hours."

The man bowed slightly to all of them and withdrew. Everyone was silent for a few moments.

Edgar let out a sudden cheer, drawing all eyes to him. His own eyes were dancing with joy.

"Figaro is free! Thank you, Ancients," he breathed.

Cyan nodded, tears filling his eyes. "As is Doma. Bless you, my king. You died a free man. Thou shalt not have died in vain."

"Get some rest, everyone," said Terra, "we're going to be busy in the next several days."

* * *

Sabin knelt on the bare stone of the balcony, feeling the chill night wind penetrate his bare skin. He was stripped to the waist, hands resting loosely in front of him. He was still a bit embarrassed by Leo and Gestahl at the dinner. Why had they had to remind him of Gestahl's offers in front of everyone? Locke had looked ready to take a swipe at his throat, and even Edgar and Terra had looked betrayed for a moment.

_Burn you, Gestahl_, he cursed, chastising himself for his language, even if it stayed in his thoughts.

Sabin steadied his breathing and pushed all thoughts of dinner out of his mind. Slowly, he made himself one with the wind, with the scent of flowers from the balcony, with the light of the moon and the stars. His consciousness expanding, joining him with the creatures of the surrounding mountains and forests. Then, at long last, he was one with the lifestream itself.

Power of unimaginable strength pulsed together. The Espers were assembled, Sabin realized. All of them together, and the power wasn't just their own. Where they had gathered had power of epic proportions itself. If Sabin had been able to tell direction and distance in the lifestream, he could have directed his allies right to the Espers. Their power shined so brightly it was like a beacon.

But there was a shadow of fear and uncertainty filling the void. It was like a coating of filth on the bountiful, sweet strength of life. The void seemed to sway upon the point where the filth and the light met. Sabin knew instinctively what it meant. The world was coming to a balance point, a time and place where the future of the world would be determined. Its potential for good, or for ill, was almost unimaginable.

Sabin brought himself out of his meditation with a snap, and sucked in air to steady his breathing. For the first time in many years, Sabin understood true terror.


	27. Chapter 25: Agony of Truth

For those of you used to months between updates, this update must come as a shock to you. My muse has returned (a little), and I hope to keep plugging along at this story. Unfortunately, as of this chapter, all of the notes that I had been working from for previous chapters are finished. From now on, this will mostly be free writing. I do have specific ideas for things that I want to do, but a lot will be spur-of-the-moment. I am grateful for all of the great reviews, and I hope to keep the work at the same level of quality that you have all become used to.

Thanks to all the loyal readers who have continued to provide great and useful reviews; ZefieK, Valkyrie Celes, Frozen Aura and Brendan Aurabolt. Also thanks to new reviewers BandanaNight and Meeerf, I look forward to more reviews from everyone. Once again… thank you, and enjoy.

* * *

Terra and Locke departed the next morning on chocobos. Gestahl had needed a few days in order to get Vector back on its feet before joining them on the journey to Crescent Isle. The two of them had decided to investigate the Imperial base near the Esper cave and retrieve the items that Gestahl had awarded to them before making their way to Albrook.

After seeing them off, the others met with Banon in his command tent.

"I just can't imagine that the Espers will remain where they are for the entire time it will take Terra and Locke to find them," commented Edgar.

"They'll wait there," said Sabin firmly.

"How do you know that?" asked Setzer.

Sabin frowned. "There is a… feeling. I can't describe it any better than that. But I think the Espers are afraid."

"Afraid?" echoed Banon, eyes narrowing in thought, "Afraid of what?"

"I don't know," replied Sabin, shaking his head. "The feeling is far from distinct, as if I'm sensing them through some kind of filter. Ramuh and the Esper in Narshe were both much clearer to my senses. It could be distance, but it could be something more sinister."

"No trust," added Mog, "Gestahl is Esper-hunter. Hunt Espers. Find Espers. Control Espers. That is dream of Esper-hunter."

"I don't doubt you, Mog," said Banon, "I spoke with Gestahl yesterday, and he was very much like the man that I knew many years ago. But I cannot shake the feeling that something was wrong."

"We've been feeling that too," commented Edgar, "that sense that things just aren't adding up the way they're supposed to. And as much as I want to stay and talk to nobles, see about what I can learn from them, Setzer is going to need every competent hand he can get for the _Blackjack_."

"I'm still not so sure about you and Cid working on my ship," Setzer told them.

"You can either accept our help or wait a month to get it off the ground," replied Edgar with a grin, "Cid basically built the defenses of Vector during the height of the war against the Urthmen. You think he won't be able to help? He might figure out how to double the _Blackjack's_ speed. You need to take advantage of his genius."

"I didn't say I wouldn't," Sezter said, "just that I'm not sure I trust you. You're probably going to go and break something."

The last part was said with a grin, and Edgar responded with one of his own.

"I'll try and keep the destruction of your ship to a minimum," commented the Figaran.

At that moment, the flap of the tent was pushed aside and Cid made his way inside. He shifted nervously from one foot to the other, clearly uncertain of whether he was welcome or not.

"I uh," he stammered, "I have the equipment you need loaded onto a pair of carts. The gobruks are harnessed already. We're ready to go whenever you are."

Setzer, Gau and Edgar rose. It had been decided that Gau would be of more help keeping a lookout at the _Blackjack_ than investigating in a city.

"We'll keep in touch with Banon," said Edgar, looking at his younger brother, "you do the same. We'll coordinate through him."

Sabin nodded. "Ancients be with you, big brother."

"And with you, shrimp."

Edgar and the others left the tent, joining the carts that Cid had loaded with goods and began leading the gobruks out of the city.

"Sir Sabin," said Cyan, "Sir Mog and I shalt consult with soldiers. Thou should speak with the people."

"I will. Good fortune," said Sabin.

Cyan nodded, and he and Mog went towards the small barracks area where the remnants of Vector's guards were camped.

* * *

Sabin was a little frustrated that evening as he stalked through the halls of the Iron Fortress. He'd had very little success speaking with any native Vectorans. Too many of them recognized him as the heir of Ironhand. Amazement and fear had been what had met him throughout the day, and to be honest, he was getting a little tired of it.

_How in the world did you ever deal with this, Master?_ he wondered.

Banon had been holding a sealed letter addressed to Sabin when he'd returned from one of his trips into the western part of the city. The letter bore Gestahl's personal seal. Banon had let him know that no one else had seen the letter or knew of it, except the messenger and the two of them.

Sabin followed the directions in the letter. Dusk was beginning to fall. Setzer had taken all of their formal clothes back to the ship, and they had agreed to stay in a small inn where other Returners were staying, as well. None of them were willing to risk Gestahl spying on them within his own fortress. He opened the door indicated in the letter, and found himself in a small dining room.

Food sat steaming on the plates. Roast chickens, country vegetables, ale. The smells were very familiar. Gestahl stood near the window, looking out across the city. Sabin stood there for several moments, looking at the older man. Finally, he could take the silence no more.

"You know, the last time we had this meal, Vargas and I were drinking milk," Sabin commented, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"I think even if you'd been thirty, Duncan still wouldn't have let the two of you have any ale, or wine," replied Gestahl, turning from the window. "Probably would have damaged your spiritual journey."

"You did your best to throw us off-track," Sabin said, a little harsher than he'd intended.

Gestahl froze, halfway into his chair. With a sigh, he lowered himself the rest of the way. "I did, didn't I? When I met you and Vargas, I knew in a heartbeat that you were more like Duncan than his own son was. And I thought, what would I have given to convince Duncan to train men like you, Sabin?"

Sabin ate slowly. He remembered a night like this, years ago. Of course, Vargas had been there. Vargas… his best friend. Duncan had been tending to Leo that night, tasking Sabin and Vargas to cook the meal. Gestahl's words had been generous, filling their minds with opportunity.

"Why didn't you accept my offer, Sabin?" asked Gestahl.

Sabin sighed, putting down his food. He debated whether to be honest, but Duncan's insistence on the truth won out.

"The first time, I refused out of fear," he admitted, "I had only been with Duncan for a few years. I'd fled Figaro, had no family or friends anywhere else in the world. All I had was Duncan. I'd seen the apprehension between the two of you, though he'd never told us of your history. I was afraid that if I accepted, even for some time in the future, that Duncan would shun me, force me to leave the mountains. I was afraid he'd stop teaching me."

Gestahl remained silent. Only watching with sympathy in his eyes.

_Sabin_, he thought, _if only you know how much I would have wanted you and Vargas in the Empire, even if you were only half-trained._

"The second time, a few years later, you delivered the same offer, but this time it was laced with threats against everyone I cared about," Sabin continued, "and that is something I could never stand with. It sounded more like something that I would have expected from Kefka, not from you."

Gestahl nodded sadly. "And this time?"

"This time," said Sabin slowly, "this time, I'm the heir of Ironhand. Duncan's legacy is on my shoulders. His responsibility, and mine, is to the entire world, and not to any one nation. I will help you, Gestahl, so long as your heart remains virtuous. But know that when you stray from that path, I will be there to stop you."

Sabin's ocean blue eyes held the elder man's gaze with such intensity and dedication that Gestahl did not dare look away for several moments.

"I wish Duncan could be here now to see you like this, Sabin," Gestahl said wearily, "he would be proud to have raised a son like you. And I am proud of you. The world needs more men like you."

* * *

Cyan and Mog were frustrated. They had covered most of the city over the last day or two, trying to figure out what it was that was so… wrong, with the whole situation. Cyan could feel it in his bones; something was off. Gestahl, the Espers, the Crescent Isle… he didn't know what it was, and neither did Edgar or Setzer. Cyan was not so proud that he couldn't admit that both the Figaran king and the gambler's political savvy far exceeded his own. And that was what worried him. They too knew something was wrong, but were unable to figure out what it was. And since their skills were necessary to repair the _Blackjack_ as quickly as possible, it fell to him and Mog, especially since Sabin had disappeared yet again.

"We being watched, kupo," said Mog quietly.

Cyan rolled his head around, bringing one hand up to massage his neck. It gave him the chance to take a quick, unobtrusive glance around. One older man at a corner inn was watching them.

"If I turn around in two minutes," said Cyan, "canst thou approach our spy from behind unnoticed?"

"Kupo!" sniffed Mog, almost sarcastically, as though the task was too easy. In moments, the Moogle slipped into a side alley and vanished.

Cyan shook his head, amazed that the white-furred creature could disappear into shadows. When he reached the end of the street, Cyan crossed and began strolling back, trying to give Mog enough time to circle around. Walking towards the inn, he got a better look at their watcher.

He was an older man, probably a few years older than Cyan. Gray tinged his hair and beard, and his brown and gray clothes didn't show a scrap of color. A commoner, or a good spy, thought Cyan, noting how the man had half turned to the building, trying to avoid being noticed.

_No, not a good spy_, thought Cyan with a slight grin, _a good spy wouldn't have been caught_.

"Something interesting, good sir?" Cyan asked as he came up to the man.

The man glanced up at Cyan and swallowed hard. He pushed back in his chair, preparing to run before a foot of gleaming steel rested against his chest.

"Hello, kupo," said Mog as the man froze, still as a statue.

Cyan glanced at the passerby, knowing the three of them must have made an extraordinary sight.

"Why doest thou watch us, sir?" Cyan asked, "Art thou a spy for Gestahl?"

"A spy?" echoed the man, "No, no I'm not… I just wanted to see the leaders of the thugs!"

"Thugs?" repeated Cyan.

"You came in to Vector, all high and mighty and ready to wage a war," growled the man, his voice gaining strength and conviction, "and what did it bring? You leveled the greatest city in the world. How does it feel, Returner? I swear, when the army comes back…"

"Wait! What didst thou say?" asked Cyan.

"I said," spat the man, "that when the army comes back, Emperor Gestahl will slaughter your puny force and restore order to the world."

"When didst the army leave? I hath seen many soldiers in the streets and the Iron Fortress."

"You don't really think the Emperor was unprepared do you?" the man accused, "Most of the army marched out of the city the day before your Esper cronies tried to slaughter all of us!"

"Let him go, Mog," said Cyan gently.

The Moogle pulled his spear away from the man's chest, then hissed, baring his fangs. The man stumbled away in his haste to flee.

"Kupo?" said Mog questioningly, "Mog not understand. Espers come. Espers fight. How Esper-killer know they come? Where army sent?"

"I do not know, my friend," answered Cyan. "But this doth be very important information that cannot wait. We must find Sir Sabin immediately and then speak to the others."

The Moogle and the knight hurried back towards the Iron Fortress.

* * *

Work on the _Blackjack_ was progressing at a surprisingly fast pace. Setzer was used to it being only himself and Janson who were capable of repairs anywhere on the ship. But with Edgar and Cid helping, their mechanical brilliance was quickly making the difference in repairs that would take months, and instead may only take two weeks. Work had gone on late into the night several times, as it had tonight.

"We'll get you all fixed up, sweetheart," Setzer whispered to his ship.

"Ancients curse you, Edgar!" cried Cid, sticking his head out of one of the control panels to look at the Figaran king on the far side of the room.

"What did I do?" asked Edgar.

"I told you I needed pliers and you tossed me a wrench! Don't you know the difference?" scolded Cid.

"Of course I do! I'm not an idiot!" retorted Edgar, but Setzer could see the king turning a little red. They'd all been working on the airship almost non-stop for the past several days. Short breaks here and there, two and three hour naps was doing bad things to their concentration.

"You want regular or needle-nose?" asked Edgar.

"Hold on there, Edgar," said Setzer, "we're not gonna get the old girl flying again if we kill each other. We're all tired and a bit cranky, and we may be doing sloppy work in our exhaustion. We'll bed down for six hours. It's almost midnight as it is. We'll get some sleep, and start again when it's daylight."

The other two nodded and made their way towards their cabins. The cleaning staff had managed to get nearly everything back in its proper place, and the crew had put together a brand new landing strut to replace the one that had snapped during the landing, so at least the _Blackjack_ stood upright.

"You should listen to your own advice, skipper," said Janson, appearing from the hatch. He handed Setzer a mug of steaming tea.

Setzer nodded his thanks. "Too much to do. Besides, I don't even know if you've slept yet."

Janson smirked. "I've caught a few naps. But then again, I'm not doing actual work, cap'n. I'm just making sure everyone else gets their work done without slacking. That's easier." He hesitated over his next words. "You're not in competition with Daryl anymore."

Setzer spun on his old friend and fixed him with a look that made Janson wonder if he'd gone a step too far. His captain's former relationship was a touchy subject, and not one that Setzer liked to talk about.

"I'm not trying to compete with a dead woman," growled Setzer, warning his friend to drop it.

But Janson was as stubborn as his friend. "Yes, you are, cap'n. You're still trying to prove that you're the best and fastest. That you can get the _Blackjack_ back to flying before she's ready. You remember Daryl's crash outside Nikeah, and how quickly she put her ship back together. You're trying to overcome her record. Bloody Ancients, skipper, she's dead almost eight years and you're still competing with her."

Setzer was quiet, but his face spoke of the effort to keep his temper under control.

Janson didn't let up. "Get some rest, skipper. The crew knows you'd go through hell for them and this ship. That kind of dedication makes them loyal, and will keep them from jumping ship after this crash. You and Daryl loved each other, but the _Falcon_ is lost. You've got nothing to prove to me, the crew, or to the _Blackjack_."

Setzer's face began to relax, and slowly he began to nod.

"I lost my heart when she disappeared," Setzer admitted, "what point was there in continuing?"

Janson kept silent, remembering the day they'd learned that Daryl had gone with her airship somewhere in the south. No trace of Daryl, her crew, or the _Falcon_ had been found. He could remember his captain's nights of drunken tears and rage, the rants that had kept Setzer going for hours over her loss.

Setzer lifted his head and looked Janson in the eye. The first mate could tell the pain was back behind the walls his captain had created to hold it.

"Sometimes, old friend, the Ancients just roll us a bad turn," Setzer said. He handed the mug back and moved off towards his cabin.

For the next hour, Janson stayed in the engine room, fixing the small mistakes the other three men had made in their exhaustion and cleaning up so they would be ready to start fresh. That was his job, to make sure the crew thought the captain was invincible. If he was as human as they were, how could they trust him with their lives like they did.

Janson shook his head as he moved on to the next project.

* * *

Albrook was a lovely town with a clean, organized, and _massive_ harbor district. It reminded Terra a great deal of South Figaro, but without the prevalence of Edgar's technology. The people were polite and pleasant, giving her and Locke clear directions to the harbor. As they approached, they could clearly see the multitude of Imperial flags that separated the Imperial fleet from the merchant and fishing fleets.

The Imperial docks were surrounded by a high fence and gate, armed troops keeping a sharp eye on the area. Terra and Locke were waved through with little more than a glare, then directed to one of the larger ships in the harbor, an Imperial frigate.

General Leo stood on the deck, speaking to two men, who Terra presumed were the captain and first mate. Terra shifted her pack on her shoulder and boarded the ramp, with Locke close behind her, beginning to look a little green.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly, looking back at him.

Locke smiled weakly. "Fine. I just… well my sea legs aren't what they should be."

Terra turned away as she couldn't stop the grin that spread across her face. As the two of them came off the gangplank, Leo nodded to the two men and dismissed them.

"Welcome aboard the _HIMS Forerunner_," Leo said as a greeting, smiling to Terra and Locke. "I was beginning to wonder where you were, then I remembered that you had detoured to the gate base."

Terra resisted the urge to glance down at the sword at her hip. The saber's blade was the red of roaring flames, and when she had looked at the blade, she could almost imagine those flames moving along the blade's length. There had been other items as well, relics from before the War of the Magi. She and Locke had not had a chance to investigate them to see what they did, but two were rings; one that seemed to be made of a dozen linked shields that Terra wore, and the other made of dark blue crystal with gold threaded throughout.

"Sorry, General," Terra replied, "it took us a little longer than expected at the base."

Leo waved his hand. "Not a problem. And please, call me Leo. No need for formalities among us. You and your friends have earned the right through your struggles to address me as a friend."

Terra nodded her thanks, nudging Locke with her elbow when he failed to respond. Locke grunted and mumbled a thanks. Leo smirked, then turned his attention back to Terra.

"I wanted you to know that in addition to Emperor Gestahl, who will be arriving this evening, that I was authorized to bring some others to help you," Leo told them, "I brought a colleague, another Imperial general, as well as a skilled mercenary that I've worked with before. Ah, here they come."

"Another general?" whispered Locke, "I thought there was only Leo, Kefka and Celes?"

"Maybe we were wrong," replied Terra in a whisper of her own, then froze in shock.

"Lady Terra, Locke," began Leo, "allow me to introduce you to General Celes, and to Shadow."

Both Returners gasped and held their breath in amazement for several moments. Shadow was unchanged; dressed all in black with his reinforced face mask and cowl that left only his blank steel-gray eyes showing. No weapon was visible except for a short blade on his back, but both knew he was armed to the teeth. Beside him stood Interceptor, nearly up to Shadow's waist, with powerful muscles beneath his brown and black fur, staring at them like a silent wraith.

Next to him was Celes, though far unlike the woman Locke had last seen in Vector. Gone was any trace of warmth that she had begun to show since the Opera House. Now she was cold; colder than when Locke had first met her. Her eyes… Locke shivered. Blue ice; nothing that he would consider human. Also gone was her variant of the green Imperial officer uniform. Instead she wore a sleeveless shirt and pants of dark leather. Her pale skin was revealed on her bare arms and through the laces that crossed each other as they ran up the sides of her legs. Only her snow-white cloak was the same. Even her hair was held back by two silver combs, all of it dropping down along the back of her neck.

Locke's mouth was dry, he wanted to say something… _needed_ to say something. But other people's voices echoed in his mind.

_Some of us surely betrayed her_, came Sabin's voice.

_Celes' joining of the Returners was genuine_, echoed Gestahl.

Words died in Locke's throat. What could he possibly say to repair what he had broken? How could he possibly regain her trust? What could he say to excuse what he'd done? Was that even possible?

Terra tried to catch Celes' eye, but the blond met Terra's gaze for only a moment before looking away. In that moment though, a chill went down Terra's spine.

Shadow watched it all impassively, his gray eyes watching their every movement.

"I guess you all know each other," said Leo quietly, meeting Shadow's gaze for a moment, then shrugging, "I've arranged lodging for all of you at an inn that caters to Imperial officers. Get some rest. It's a two day sail to the Crescent Isle, and after that we'll have a significant challenge ahead of us. Get as much rest as you can."

With that, Leo bowed his head and moved off to speak with the ship's captain. Locke was still staring at Celes, who was doing her best to ignore everyone. Terra looked at the black-clad mercenary, who she could almost imagine was smirking at the tension between all of them.

Terra looked over at Locke, still silent, then to Celes. Well, if Locke wasn't going to say anything…

"Celes?" Terra said cautiously. The blond general turned to face her, her face impassive. "Edgar and Sabin and others told me what happened. I'm glad that you're alright. We were all worried about you."

"I doubt everyone shared the depth of your worry," Celes replied coldly, her eyes quickly darting to Locke, "but I thank you for your concern."

"Celes… listen," stammered Locke, taking a step forward. Terra noticed that Celes took a step back, keeping her distance.

Locke noticed too, the hand that he'd been stretching towards Celes fell to his side. To keep from wringing his hands or otherwise betraying his nervousness, Locke finally decided to shove his hands in his pockets.

"Celes, I…" he started, but words failed him again, and he stood there with his mouth half-open.

With a sniff, Celes spun on her heel and marched down the gangplank without a backwards glance, her spine ramrod straight.

Terra watched her go with astonishment plain on her features. She knew from what Edgar had told her that Locke and Celes had grown close in their weeks together, but Terra had been hard-pressed to believe that their separation at the Magitek Research Facility had been as painful as Edgar had described. Obviously she'd been wrong. Cold rage burned furiously in Celes' eyes, that was clear.

She was drawn from her musings by a quiet chuckle. Terra turned to regard Shadow. Those gray eyes were frighteningly blank, regarding her with a mixture of amusement and scorn. She shivered, remembering the fear she'd felt the first time she'd seen him with Locke and Edgar in the _Soaring Dragon_ in South Figaro.

Locke glared at him. "You find something funny, Shadow?"

"Only my employment with your mortal enemy," replied the assassin, his eyes narrowing. "First the Ironhand hires me to help you, and now if you can imagine, I'm working with the Empire. It is a shame that you did not bring the Ironhand with you, I am still waiting for the chance to test my skills against him."

Terra shivered visibly. The others had told her about how Shadow had helped, and then abandoned them when he felt his contract was up. No loyalty. None whatsoever. She had no idea how he could be trusted, even though Cyan had told her that Sabin trusted him.

"Don't worry, little Terra," said Shadow with a humorless chuckle, "I stick to the letter of my contracts. So you can rest easy, I'm not about to garrote you in the middle of the night."

With that, Shadow turned away and walked down the gangplank, following Celes' path to the inn. Interceptor followed at his heels after giving the two of them an evaluating gaze.

"Well gee, don't go out of your way to _help_ us or anything!" Locke called after him, but Shadow didn't turn or slow his pace.

Terra watched him leave, wondering what was going through the mind of both Celes and the assassin. She looked over to Locke, who's face was red with anger, though whether at himself or someone else she couldn't tell.

"Locke," she said softly, waiting for her friend to turn and look at her, "I think we should turn in for the night. It's early, but Leo is right. The next few days will test our endurance, I'm sure of it."

Locke nodded silently, watching the docks where Celes had vanished.

* * *

Sleep was not Locke's friend that night. Even after a good meal and a hot bath, he spent several hours tossing and turning on the bed. It was almost as comfortable as the one in his cabin on the _Blackjack_, and far better than the ground that had made his bed for so many nights in the past few months. Yet that did nothing to ease his mind or relax his body.

His brain continued to work at a speed that would have outraced even the _Blackjack_. The first meeting with Celes in the tunnels beneath South Figaro, the raids against the Imperial forces that had been slowly making their way to Narshe, the journey to Figaro Castle, Kohlingen where he had told her about Rachel. There were more memories, so many more; Jidoor, Zozo, the Opera House, and the Magitek Research Facility.

Locke went over every moment they had been in the facility, every word Celes said. Then of course came Kefka. Locke wanted to spit at the thought of the madman, and what he'd said. Was there any way Locke misinterpreted what had been said? No, Edgar and Cyan had heard the same thing and believed as he had. Only Sabin hadn't believed she'd betrayed them, but then again, what else should Locke have expected.

Sabin's words in Zozo came back and haunted him.

_A form as exquisite as yours is wasted on pathetic thieves. Especially one who cannot appreciate your bounties. But I could._

Locke felt sick to his stomach. Sabin might have claimed he never remembered even thinking thoughts like that, but he was right. Sabin _had_ appreciated Celes, more than Locke could have thought. Of all of them, Sabin had been the only one to remain loyal to her, had stayed faithful to the trust that had been shared.

_Why couldn't I have been that loyal?_ Locke raged to himself, _I should have been! I should've been able to see through Kefka's lies! Why didn't I? Why did I believe Kefka over Celes? WHY?!_

Locke finally sat up, swinging his legs off the bed and his head hung low. There was no way he was going to get any sleep tonight. He slipped on his pants, boots, and a shirt, the sleeves reaching only halfway to his elbows, the he walked out of his room. Locke stopped by and peeked into Terra's room, just to check on her. She was sleeping soundly, her form illuminated by the silver moonlight coming in from the window.

Satisfied, he made his way downstairs. The common room was empty, and lit only by a single candle on the bar, enough so that people were able to avoid the tables and chairs.

Fresh air. That's what Locke knew he needed. Fresh air would help.

He walked out the front door and into the night. The harbor and the ocean beyond reflected the moonlight in rippling lines. Locke blinked in surprise when he realized he wasn't alone on the terrace. Celes stood leaning on the low wall, watching the ocean. Her back stiffened as she sensed his approach.

"Celes?" he said in a near-whisper. She didn't reply, and didn't even turn to look at him.

This wasn't working, he knew. Bloody Ancients, why was it he never had the words for her when he needed them?!

"Please, Celes. Please talk to me," he pleaded desperately, "why won't you say anything?"

Celes finally moved, turning on her heel to face him. Her blue eyes shone with a light of their own in the darkness. Cold light. She still said nothing.

Locke swallowed hard. "I… I don't know why I can never tell you what I need to say," he began, "but I have to say something to you or I'm going to lose my mind. I thought I'd lost you forever. I thought Kefka would kill you. I know I was wrong. Even if I only thought it a little… I know I was wrong to doubt you and I did…"

Celes spun away from from Locke, towards the stairs that would take her down to the docks.

"I'm still your friend, Celes!" Locke yelled, his voice filled with his desperation.

Celes was halfway down the stairs, but paused, hesitating. Locke allowed himself a moment of hope that he could have a chance to make this right. But after a few moments, Celes continued walking, descending the stairs and turning away from the inn before disappearing into the night.

Locke fell to the ground, leaning against the wall as he began to weep.

* * *

The _Forerunner_ was aptly named. The large frigate was deceptively fast, slicing through the waves without effort, slightly rolling as it sped towards the Crescent Isle. Strong winds and calm seas had been predicted by the ship's captain, a man who reminded Terra of Setzer in many ways, especially the skillful way he handled his crew.

Gestahl had arrived sometime during the night, and had been ready and waiting for them on board the next morning. The _Forerunner_ had cast off an hour after dawn, and the strong wind propelled them quickly on their journey. After they had cleared the breakwaters, Gestahl had retired to his cabin with the advisors he'd brought with him. Locke stayed in his and Terra's cabin most of the day, his queasy stomach keeping him in his cot.

Leo and Terra were on deck most of the time; the Imperial general spoke at length with the captain, while Terra enjoyed watching the waves disappear beneath the ship and the dolphins that raced just ahead of the keel, leaping out the water, apparently having the time of their life. Terra sighed whistfully, wishing that she could have that much freedom and untainted joy.

Below deck, Celes marched to Shadow's dark cabin in the stern sometime after lunch. She rapped hard on the door.

The door slowly opened, revealing that the room was little more than a closet. Interceptor was behind his master, watching Celes carefully. Shadow was unchanged and unperturbed by her appearance.

"Celes," he said in greeting.

Her hand lashed out, her palm smacking the assassin's cheek with all the force she could muster. Interceptor was on his feet in an instant, teeth bared. Shadow chuckled as he turned back to face her.

"That was for telling Sabin that I equated his fighting style with that of a knuckle-dragging ape," she rasped, "and if I thought that Interceptor would let me smack you again, I would, if only for good measure!"

Shadow turned to the massive animal. "Interceptor, peace."

Interceptor immediately laid back down on the floor, though his eyes still watched Celes warily.

"I am surprised that the Ironhand left the city without you," Shadow told her, "I think I know him well enough that I would expect him to have fought through half the Imperial army to get to you. His loyalty outweighs his common sense."

"That it does," she agreed, "he would have gotten himself killed if I hadn't done what I had to."

"Very noble," replied Shadow with a mocking laugh. "Very self-sacrificing. Very stupid. If you must sacrifice anyone, sacrifice an enemy. That way you don't suffer the punishment."

"Is that what you did to the Kojiro?" Celes shot back.

Shadow's gray eyes instantly became more guarded. "My relationship with my devastated clan is no business of yours. If you have nothing relevant to say then I suggest you remove yourself from my quarters."

"I need your advice," she replied, "about Locke."

Shadow snickered. "You ask _my_ opinion on your romantic affair with him? You are more desperate than I thought."

"I'm desperate?" echoed Celes.

"You are pining for him. Your face and manner are as cold as the snow-capped mountains near Narshe, and yet whenever the rogue is around your heart is very nearly beating out of your chest. Nonetheless, I find this turn of events rather… amusing. What advice do you need?"

"I want your opinion of him," Celes managed to get out, past the thickness of her throat.

"He is afraid," Shadow answered quickly, "there is something either about you or about himself that terrifies him. He regrets whatever doubt may have arisen in his mind, but he is still not completely certain that his doubts were unfounded. He wants them to be. He wants to be certain about you, and I am sure he will get himself killed before he musters the courage to actually speak to you about it. I almost laughed when you faced each other yesterday; it was like he had forgotten how to speak, and Locke is not one to fail to have words at the ready."

"So, do you think he… I mean, could he and I…"

"That is not for me to decide," replied Shadow, without a trace of emotion. "In some ways, you are trying to become like me, Celes; cold, heartless, without pity and without remorse. You could become just like me, but as much as you are trying you are also fighting it. Until you make a choice, you will not have peace. You will not know sacrifice until you choose to be like me, at which time you will know you have to sacrifice that which you treasure most dearly."

"What did you have to sacrifice?" came the whispered question.

"That… is no business of yours," was quiet, calm answer. Then Shadow closed his door, leaving Celes standing silently in the corridor.

* * *

Late that night, Terra stood on deck, unable to sleep. Nervousness had her stomach tied up in knots. The fresh, salty air was helping to calm her jitters, but only just a little. She thought about Locke and Celes, and those they had left in Vector. She uttered a silent prayer to the Ancients to keep them all safe.

Briefly, she wondered who the Ancients were. According to the others, even the Espers had uttered oaths in the name of the Ancients. Who had they been that even the mighty Espers would swear in their name? Terra shook her head and dismissed the thought as idle curiosity.

_I miss my friends, Father_, she thought, staring out at the moonlit waters, _I want to be back with them, to feel the love they have for me, the love we have for each other. Please see that they are well, I beg you._

There was more she wanted to say, more she wanted to pray for, but it took her a long time to articulate her thoughts.

_What will we do? What will we do after this? We negotiate with the Espers, and then what? Can they re-open the gate? Will they go home, or will they stay? Either way, the war is over. I won't have to fight anymore. No one will. Please Father, wherever you are, please help us find the peace that we have all needed_.

"Are you alright, Lady Terra?" asked a voice.

Terra turned to the speaker, not having heard anyone approach. Leo was only a few feet away, one hand resting on the railing as he looked at her with concern in his eyes. She smiled.

"I'm fine, General," she replied, "just a little anxious."

Leo nodded and closed the last few feet to stand next to her. He stood upright, hands clasped behind his back as he watched the ocean with her.

"You're not half-bad as an actress, Lady Terra," he said after a few moments, "but I have been dealing with Vectoran nobility for too many years. I can see that you are feeling better, but you're not fine."

"I'm feeling better than when?" she asked.

"At the ball held in your honor," Leo answered, still not looking her in the eye. "At the time, you looked sick. I was watching for longer than just the time I was introduced. Every time you looked at Emperor Gestahl you seemed to flinch, and your face twisted minutely, as if you had a horrible taste in your mouth."

Terra shrugged. "It's just that… Gestahl murdered my mother. I remember it happening. Then he tries to turn me into his weapon, uses my power to make his Magitek army. When I don't follow him, he has my thoughts ripped away from me. And to top it off, I feel the power of my mother's oath to never serve Gestahl. Yet even with all of that in my past, here I am. I'm cooperating with a man who I should have every right to want to kill for what he did to me. I'm helping my mother's murderer. What kind of person does that?!"

"A good person," Leo replied. "We are who we are, and we can't be any more than that. Sometimes, we don't even live up that ideal."

Terra looked at him. That sounded like something Sabin would have said, or would have quoted from Duncan. Leo had seemed very familiar with Sabin at the ball, did they have some kind of history together? Had Leo studied with Master Duncan?

"Why do you say that? You're a good person too," she insisted.

Leo shook his head. "I'm not as good a person as you may think, Terra. I knew, had known for years that you were being used as a living weapon. Kefka bragged to me the day he put the Slave Crown on you that you were finally under control. I knew that they were using you to perfect the army. Yet I did nothing about it.

"I believed, and still do believe that Gestahl was in the right. The world needed unity in order to survive. Gestahl had a dream and a vision of the future and I was proud to serve this noble goal. Yet as a general, I could see the corruption and the cruelty that was being inflicted in the pursuit of that goal. I wanted to make sure that I could still stand to look at myself in the mirror. Yet knowing about you, I still did nothing. I sacrificed an innocent young girl to satisfy my own ambitions and my own loyalty. Because of that, I am no different than Kefka. You have every right to be distrustful; of Gestahl, of myself, of everyone. You, and Celes, were both used for your power. Your childhood, your very lives were taken away from you. And I am sorry. If I could go back in time and change what I had done, I would. I was not a part of the solution, therefore I am a part of the problem."

Terra and Leo stood silently together for a long time. Terra was thinking over what Leo had said, that he had stood by and done nothing. But she felt no anger towards him. He was a noble man, who had fought for a noble goal. From everything she had been told, Leo was the shining example of the Empire's potential for justice and righteousness.

"I… I was born of the union between a human and an Esper," she said quietly after a while, and thought that Leo might have stiffened. "I sometimes feel that I don't belong here, but I _know_ I wouldn't belong in the Esper world. I have to wonder if I will ever feel like I am wanted… needed somewhere. Will I even know what it is like to love someone and be loved in return."

"Of course you will," Leo said softly.

He turned to face her fully for the first time, his hand coming up to brush away a strand of her hair. Terra's breath hitched for a second, and she could feel her breathing deepen as she looked up into Leo's eyes.

"But I," she started to say, "I haven't felt that way. I don't know what it feels like."

"No one does the first time. We all have to learn what it feels like," he said with gentle smile. Leo's hand came up again to stroke her cheek. "You're young. You have a long time to get a chance. But I understand what you mean, I understand only too well."

Terra felt her breathing and heart quicken as she looked into Leo's eyes, then her gaze flicked down to his lips. They seemed to be coming closer, closer… almost…

A shuffling sound burst into Terra's mind, and she and Leo backed off from each other almost instantly. Terra fought to calm her rapid heart, and even in the darkness she could tell Leo's face was flushed. He too looked like he was trying to steady his breathing. With a brief look around, Leo nodded and strode away without a glance back.

With her breathing under control, she looked towards the crates lashed down in the center of the deck.

"Who's there?" she demanded, fire burning in the pit of her stomach, completely subsuming her former anxiety.

_Why couldn't I have found out what love is right now?!_ she demanded angrily of any being that might have been listening.

Shadow emerged from the darkness with Interceptor at his side. He spared her a single glance.

"It is a lovely night, don't you agree?" he asked, "I like the night. There are things to be afraid of in the darkness. Things that I may one day have to face. The stars ruin it, and the moon even more, but still, the air here is fresher than my cabin. I may just bring a blanket for my back and sleep here tonight."

Terra blushed, suddenly wondering how long Shadow had been standing there.

"Did you, did you hear what we were talking about?" she asked, stammering a little as she did so.

Those pitiless gray eyes focused on her. "I did not intend to eavesdrop on your conversation, but you and Leo had no sense of discretion. Any member of the crew could have overheard as well, however, you are fortunate that they did not."

Terra heaved a sigh of relief.

"And you need not worry," continued Shadow, "I will remain silent on what I heard this night. Your compatriots will hear nothing from me, not even the Ironhand."

"Thank you," Terra said quietly. Shadow nodded, then came up next to her, watching the ocean. Interceptor laid down next to him.

"Shadow…" she began.

"I cannot help you," he interrupted, "nor can anyone else. What you feel is something that only you can determine. The only one who can give you what you need is yourself. You must look within for the answers you seek."

"Thank you," she said again. There was more to this mysterious black-clad man than she had ever thought. She turned to leave; she had a lot to think about before they arrived.

"Terra."

She turned around. Shadow was not looking at her, instead his complete attention was on the water around them.

"What is it?" she asked.

Shadow appeared to hesitate. "Just remember one thing. People are creatures of feeling as much as they are of thinking. Know that in this world, there are many like me. People who have sacrificed their emotions and destroyed their own feelings. Sometimes we think we do it for a noble goal. Other times, we know we do it for selfish reasons. Never forget this truth. You are a woman of great emotions, you _feel_. Do not become like me."

Terra wanted to say something. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Shadow had just about completely proven all of her beliefs about him were wrong. She could see why Sabin trusted this man. There was a lot to think about, a lot to consider. Terra tried to thank Shadow, tried to ask him what he had sacrificed his emotions for. But she couldn't. Slowly, Terra's feet carried her below decks to her bed.

Shadow remained on deck, his hands tightly gripping the railing while he regained control of his emotions.

_Fool!_ he raged at himself, _You are an addle-brained, Ancient-cursed fool! You are no longer human. You are Death. You no longer feel. You simply are. You chose this life. Accept it!_

He glanced over at Interceptor, who laid on the ground. The dog's eyes were gazing up at him with an intense, evaluating look. Shadow knew that most others considered his companion just another animal, but even he sometimes underestimated Interceptor's intelligence.

"Don't look at me like that," he admonished, then turned to look back at the ocean, "I know what I'm doing."

Grunts and groans sounded from the far side of the ship, and Shadow turned to see Locke take one struggling step at a time towards the railing. Even in the darkness, Shadow could make out the pale cast to the rogue's face. Without warning, Locke heaved himself halfway over the side and emptied the contents of his stomach. It lasted nearly two minutes.

Finally, Locke pulled himself back to the deck, having emptied himself of everything he'd eaten in the past few days. After a few moments, he spotted Shadow watching him silently.

"Not… a word… to anyone," Locke said slowly, emphasizing each word. "Do you understand me, shrouded one?"

Shadow chuckled silently, then began walking away. "Have no fear, thief. I will keep silent. Unless I find that revealing this incident benefits me in some way."

Locke's eyes widened. "Why you… oh hells!"

He threw himself over the side, emptying everything still left in his stomach, all the while cursing Shadow's back.

Shadow slept well after that.

* * *

Cyan couldn't help but shiver, although the heat was stifling. He wasn't used to this southern weather; Doma got pleasantly warm in the summer, but nothing like this. He shifted uncomfortably in his armor. There had only been a few incidents in the city of Vectorans, both civilians and soldiers, attacking members of the Returners, but they were enough that all Returners went about armed and in full armor.

He stood in the hills to the east of Vector. His feet had remembered the way, though the last time they had traveled that path, Cyan had been forced to step around the bodies of his fallen knights. Finally, he reached the spot. It was there, just as Gestahl had said.

A statue of solid, polished granite stood atop the hill. The features of the man, double his real size, were impeccable, and were it not made of stone Cyan would swear he knew the man was alive. The figure had fallen to his knees, and the shadows that fell about the statue gave the illusion that he was surrounded, yet the figure held his elegant blade aloft, high above his head. The figure's mouth was open in a cry of defiance.

Cyan forced himself to read the inscription.

_For the honor of King Randal of Doma, his devotion, his valor, and his righteousness defended Vector in its hour of need. In this spot he fought for a people not his own, and gave his life for them. To that we owe a debt for all the days to come, and together, echo his final battle cry, Doma Eterna._

Cyan could not stop the tears that poured from the corners of his eyes. The memories of that day were as fresh now as if they had occurred only yesterday.

_Sir Cyan, what is thy report, asked King Randal._

_My King, the Urthmen besiege the walls of Vector, and the defenders doth be too few. I didst see General Banon and Master Duncan atop the walls, holding thou Urthmen back as much as is possible. But they canst not survive much longer, thou Urthmen are too many. My King, art thou certain this is our war to fight? Urthmen hath not troubled the lands of Doma._

_King Randal! King Randal! one of the knight-commanders had cried. Urthmen approach from the east, some thousands, many are following our trail._

_Sir Cyan, the king had said, turning back to him._

_If the Urthmen do follow us, the defenses on the east of the city are already weakened. Only Master Duncan provides the strength to hold them back. Another push will topple even he, and leave Vector defenseless._

_King Randal had sighed heavily._

_Then there is no retreat, even if we wished do. Sir Cyan, take the 2__nd__ and 3__rd__ Legions. March forward and do not stop until you reach the walls. The 1__st__ Legion shall remain here with me and hold back the reinforcements._

_But my Liege, you cannot hold back so many! Allow me to stay with the Legion, you must make it to the safety of Vector's walls. You doth be king, and I am only your Retainer! I can be replaced, you canst not!_

_Those are my orders, Sir Cyan. Obey them with honor! See that you train my son to be the kind of man you have grown up to become. The 1__st__ Legion stands with me! Sir Cyan, lead your men._

_Cyan had dropped to his knee, his blade thrust into the ground._

_It hath been my honor to serve you, my King. I hope that I shalt have the honor of continuing to do so. The 2__nd__ and 3__rd__ Legions will follow me! Do not stop until you touch the walls of Vector! Doma Eterna!_

A hand fell on Cyan's shoulder. As best he could, the old knight wiped away his tears until he could see Sabin kneeling next to him. Yet for a moment, all Cyan could see was Master Duncan, his hand on the shoulder of a much younger Cyan.

"This is the spot, isn't it?" asked Sabin.

Cyan nodded. "King Randal still stood when Master Duncan didst make it to his side. They fought back-to-back and held the Urthmen at bay on their own. Only when they were overwhelmed by thou Urthmen's numbers and separated didst my liege finally fall. I could see him, from my place atop the wall. His mighty sword, Excalibur, had shone in the sunlight, and all couldst hear his final cry of defiance."

"And then?" prompted Sabin.

"And then they vanished," Cyan replied quietly. "Their eyes dimmed, their claws pulled back into their bodies. The Urthmen crumbled into dust."

"No explanation why?" asked Sabin.

"None," replied Cyan, "it was almost noon, sometime in spring. They were gone, Vector was saved, but King Randal was gone."

Sabin was silent for a while, content to spend this time with his friend. Sabin had never seen Cyan so distraught. The Doman knight had been so steady, the only time he'd seen Cyan close to this was when they had first met, and they had escaped from the Phantom Train. Cyan had seen the spirits of his wife and son departing for the lands of the dead.

"King Randal really helped you, didn't he?" Sabin finally asked.

Cyan nodded. "It was Banon and Duncan who saved me from death when I doth be but a child. They did this long before they became the living legends that they wouldst become. But it was King Randal who gave me life. I had nothing, I _was_ just a nothing of an orphan. King Randal didst give me a home, a purpose. I owed him more than my life, but it didst be the best payment I had, and he wouldst not accept it."

"He knew the world would need you, Cyan," Sabin told him, "he knew the world would need your sword and your steady heart. He accepted your payment; he accepted your life in service to the world. Your death would have served nothing, but your life has already saved lives. Who knows how many more people will owe you their lives before it's your time to die. That is the payment King Randal accepted."

"Thank you, Sir Sabin," Cyan said quietly, then turned back to gaze at the statue.

Sabin rose to his feet and backed off, planning to give his friend some time alone. Then he stopped. Something was wrong. There was a slight rumbling sound. Sabin looked to the sky, but the only clouds he could see were high and whispy; not the time to create thunder.

Cyan dried his eyes and rose to his feet, hand resting on his sword.

"Sir Sabin, doest thou…?"

"I hear it," interrupted Sabin, "but where the bloody hell is it coming from?"

They began moving around, trying to find the source of the noise.

"Sir Sabin! There doest be a tunnel here, leading into the hills," said Cyan.

Sabin hurried over, and the two of them entered the passageway. Neither man lit a torch, despite that Sabin had three in his pack. After a few minutes of walking, their eyes had grown used to the darkness, though it was of little necessity since the tunnel was barely shoulder wide.

Ahead of them, light began to glow.

"Sir Sabin!"

"I see it."

Another few moments later, the tunnel opened up.

"Bloody Ancients," whispered Cyan.

"This is what was wrong," Sabin said quietly, nodding to himself, "I knew it, I could feel. So did Edgar. We've been betrayed."

"Where art the others?" asked Cyan.

"At the _Blackjack_," replied Sabin, "Setzer hoped to have the ship flying by lunchtime."

"We must hurry, Sir Locke and Lady Terra doth be in terrible danger!" rasped Cyan.

Together, the two men hurried back into the tunnel, then burst into a full speed run that did not end until they reached the _Blackjack_.


	28. Chapter 26: Legacy of the Magi

I know that it has taken me a long time to update, and I apologize. I had quite a bit of trouble working through this chapter, plus I've been distracted by many other stories that keep running through my head. I try and keep it balanced, working on several of those stories at once, but I try to make sure that this one stays in the foreground.

I want to thank everyone who has been great at providing reviews. As I've said before, they keep me out of the deep, dark pit of writer's block. So thanks to BandanaNight, Meeerf, Mog Guy, Valkyrie Celes, and new reviewers Nixtoga and Lady Day. Thanks for your support and insight.

And now, thank you, and enjoy…

* * *

The morning sun had finally cleared the horizon as the _Forerunner_ dropped anchor off the southern shore of the Crescent Isle. Seagulls called to each other in the growing sunlight, dipping around the masts and sails. Terra already stood on the forecastle, looking at the idyllic, rolling hills of the island.

She turned at the sounds of approaching footsteps. Celes looked as haughty and coldly angry as ever, one hand gripping the hilt of her sword. Locke still looked a bit queasy, but he was regaining some color. Shadow and Interceptor were completely unchanged.

Leo strode over to them, garbed in full armor with a wide-bladed sword slung across his back.

"Crescent Isle," he declared, eyes scanning the coastline. "As far as we know the island is uninhabited, which would make it a perfect place for the Espers to retreat to. We'll split into two groups. Celes and I will take a contingent of troops and secure the shoreline, setting up patrols to explore the area in a five mile radius. Terra, Locke, Shadow, I fully expect you will accomplish far more on your own. If you see the Espers, however, do not engage. Immediately return to base camp and we'll move cautiously."

"And what about Gestahl?" asked Locke, looking back at the cabin the Emperor had sequestered himself in.

"The Emperor still has important matters to attend to," Leo said firmly, and his hard look immediately silenced any protest Locke might have made. Leo nodded. "The captain is preparing a skiff to take us to the coast. Get ready and we'll leave in five minutes."

Locke and Shadow moved off, Locke to gather a few belongings. Shadow lounged against a hatch and watched the crewmen going about their work. Celes went over to speak to the captain.

Leo took a few steps closer and dropped his voice to a near-whisper.

"Perhaps when you return, we could continue our discussion from last night," he said, "if you'd like."

Terra smiled at him nervously. "Very much so," she replied softly, then stepped away quickly, swallowing hard. She couldn't stop the flush in her cheeks as she thought about what almost happened last night. She wasn't sure if the flush was from embarrassment that they'd almost been caught, or embarrassment that she had almost kissed Leo.

Either way, Terra wasn't sure how comfortable the thought of kissing someone, anyone, particularly Leo, made her.

* * *

"You've been quiet," Leo said to Celes.

They had made landfall earlier that morning, and the two of them had seen Terra and the others off, then quickly begun supervising the set-up of the camp and the establishment of a perimeter patrol. They had spoken very little except about the job at hand, but now they stood alone together in the command tent.

"I've never spoken much," she retorted.

Leo shrugged and nodded. "That's true. But this is different. You haven't been the same since…"

"Since Kefka nearly beat and tortured me to death?" she finished for him. Leo at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. "You're right, I haven't been. I gained something of a new perspective after my incarceration during the invasion of South Figaro."

"You came believe in their fight," commented Leo, fishing for some more information.

"Not entirely," replied Celes. She stared out the tent flap, watching as a patrol walked around the camp. "They were right that we did a great deal wrong in our pursuit of Gestahl's goals, but obviously fighting the Empire was not the way to go about fixing it."

"Is that because you truly believe it or because you were beaten by Kefka?" asked Leo.

Celes whirled on him, her eyes burning with cold fire. Leo could almost see the air shimmer around her, sparkling as though she was conjuring ice. He braced himself, but Celes realized what she was doing and slowly released the power she'd been gathering.

"The Empire is too powerful," she said at last, "and it won't allow anyone to defeat it. Kefka at least will take any advantage he can get, use any weapon he can get his hands on. With a ruthlessness like his, there is no possibility that the soft hearts of the Returners can achieve a victory."

"I didn't think anyone would accuse General Banon of having a soft heart," Leo commented.

Celes waved a hand dismissively. "He cares too much for people. You cannot be an effective general if you allow yourself to be concerned about those who will likely be casualties come the battle's end."

"Many people believe that Banon's compassion for the people under his command is what made him such a great general," countered Leo.

"Maybe when he was fighting the monstrous hordes of the Urthmen," replied Celes, "but now that his enemies are other people he doesn't want to harm them. He wants to find ways to overcome the Empire with minimal loss of life. That is his weakness, and that is why Kefka and Gestahl would win in the end, regardless of how good Banon's capabilities are. He is unwilling to make the sacrifices he needs to make."

Celes stopped short and thought about what she'd just said. Sacrifices. Shadow had told her that with the sacrifice of what she held most dear she would be like him. She now understood why Banon was loved by the Returners. He wouldn't make that sacrifice. He would never allow himself to become cold and passionless. He chose life, not death. Celes knew how close she was to making that final sacrifice, the sacrifice of her ability to love, and care.

Suddenly she wanted to weep. She didn't want to sacrifice her ability to care.

"Are you all right, Celes?" asked Leo.

Celes angrily wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, clearing them before any tears could fall.

"I'm fine," she said as harshly as she could manage, "this salty air is irritating me."

Leo tried to hide his grin but failed. He nodded gently and left the tent, giving Celes a few moments to compose herself.

_I won't become like Shadow_, she promised herself, _I won't sacrifice who I am for that. I'm not about to let Locke slip through my fingers, not when I have a chance to do something about it._

Her decision made, Celes stepped out of the tent.

* * *

Terra did her best to stop herself from fingering her sword as she and the others walked through the tiny village.

Three hours after leaving Leo and Celes at the camp, the three of them had come across this little village. Despite Leo's earlier insistence that Crescent Isle was uninhabited, the people here looked to have been living here for years.

A single cobblestone road meandered north through the village, branching off at times to the shops and homes within the village limits. No one seemed to live outside of the ring of homes, and though Terra hadn't seen any farms on their way in, she had no doubt there had to be some around.

Most of the buildings were simple one-story designs, although they looked somewhat odd. None of them seemed to made of wood or stone like the rest of the towns and cities the Returners had seen. Indeed, one stone house looked seamless except for the windows and door, as if it had been molded from a single boulder. There was a mansion as they made their way north through the village, nearly three stories and looking completely out of place with polished granite, marble and obsidian in its stonework.

But the strangest thing of all was the people. The moment the three Returners had come into sight they had become the object of amazement and… fear. One woman had been carrying a basket of bread and cakes, but when she saw them she stared for a moment before dropping her basket and fleeing into a nearby shop.

This is what made Terra nervous and itching to have a grip on her sword. But she worried that the people may see this as far too hostile, and she wanted to limit the fear these people felt for her. Locke wasn't as concerned with the villagers' feelings, and one hand rested on the hilt of his dagger. Shadow and Interceptor strode along behind them, carefully watching the villagers but appearing to be at ease among the stares.

Near the fountain in the center of the village, Terra finally came to a halt. The others gathered around her.

"What do you think?" asked Locke.

Terra shrugged uncomfortably. "Maybe we just ask someone if they've seen anything strange," she suggested, "I can't imagine that these people would take the passing of Espers as normal. They _had_ to have passed through here, just look at how scared everyone is of us."

As she spoke, a young man about her own age with straw-colored hair tried to dart around them. Shadow reached out with one hand, gripping the young villager's wrist and twisting just enough to get the villager to stop in his tracks.

"You," said Shadow quietly.

"Y-yes sir?"

"Have you seen any Espers flying around?" he asked directly.

"Real subtle," muttered Locke.

The young villager looked terrified, though whether at the question or his arm still locked in Shadow's grasp, Terra couldn't tell. The young man finally worked up enough courage to speak.

"E-Espers?" repeated the man shakily. He shook his head. "Never heard of Espers before. They some kind of monster? You, uh, you should talk to our loremaster, Strago. He lives at the northern outskirts of Thamasa. He knows everything there is to know about the creatures of the world."

Terra and Locke nodded to each other, but Shadow remained motionless. Without warning, a dagger suddenly spun into Shadow's empty hand. He pressed the blade against the young man's throat.

"You're lying to me," the ninja said simply.

"Shadow!" cried Terra, grabbing his knife hand, "That's enough. You won't be killing anyone today."

Shadow looked her up and down, evaluating her. Terra knew that she would blast the ninja with flames if he tried anything. His eyes narrowed.

"Shame," he said, "this man has a lot to say. He just needs the proper motivation. Lie to me again boy, and she won't be able to save you."

Shadow released the young man, who immediately hurried away from the trio. The knife vanished as easily as it had appeared in the first place. Shadow glanced down at Terra.

"There was no need for that," she scolded, her anger giving her the courage to face that steely gaze, "he wasn't threatening us."

"He was lying to us," replied Shadow. "That boy knew what Espers were, and the very mention of them drove shivers of fear down his spine. This village has a dire secret, and one that he was terrified we would discover. That secret is somehow connected to the Espers."

Terra stared in surprise for a moment. The only person she had known to have that kind of insight into people was Sabin. Edgar and Setzer might have some guesses, but they targeted women for their insight most of the time. Terra shuddered. Shadow could sometimes seem so much like Sabin that she wondered if Sabin could one day follow the ninja's path. Terra shook her head to clear that thought away. Sabin cared too much for people, she knew. He would never become as cold and heartless as Shadow.

Strengthened by that thought, Terra half-turned to include Locke with her next words.

"We should find this man, Strago," she said, turning to look to the north. "If we can avoid threatening anyone else's life we may find that he's the man who can help us."

Terra could imagine the smirk behind Shadow's mask, but the black-clad man simply nodded to her. Turning on her heel, Terra began to follow the path north through the village.

Locke kept an eye on the entire village as they walked through. He hadn't liked the looks that the three of them received, and some of the looks he'd seen directed at Terra had been downright spiteful. He let his left hand rest on the hilt of his dagger, the other hand kept swinging to the small of his back where he kept a second dagger. For emergencies.

He glanced off to one side, spotting a boy no more than seven or eight years old, crouched down behind a barrel near the large, officious-looking mansion. In his palm was a dancing ball of flame, and the boy was staring at it with a wide smile.

"Magic," Locke whispered to himself.

The boy seemed to notice Locke's stare, turning towards the treasure hunter. As soon as the boy saw him watching, the ball of flame vanished and boy ran off in the opposite direction.

_What the heck was that?_ Locke wondered. Aside from Terra and Celes, no one had the ability to cast magic without the aid and teaching from an Esper's magicite. Could his eyes be playing tricks on him? Had it maybe been a technological device, like Edgar kept coming up with? With all the Figaran's technological marvels, it wouldn't surprise Locke for Edgar to have come up with a device that created fire.

It must have been a trick of the light, Locke decided. Kids couldn't know magic in a place like this. Locke wasn't sure whether he could accept that or not.

* * *

Standing on the balcony of a home on the northern edge of Thamasa, a young girl, just barely ten years old, grimaced at the canvas before her. She knew she should have painted within the house, but it was such a nice day. Unfortunately, the summer sun was too bright and too hot, bleaching out the colors.

"Stupid, overly bright sun," she muttered, not really meaning it, "would it kill us to have a few clouds over us?"

She put her brush down on the table next to her, oblivious to the pale blue paint that dripped onto the table, joining dozens of other splatters and drip marks.

The painting was supposed to have been a landscape of the hills to the northeast of the village, then she had wanted to add in small depictions of the creatures that had flown over the village last week. Her grandfather and most of the other villagers had stared at the creatures with their mouths and eyes wide, and then the village elders had immediately held a private meeting in the mayor's mansion.

As much as she had pestered her grandfather to tell her about the creatures, he'd refused to say anything, saying it wasn't something she needed to know. But she knew different. It was just that he thought she was still too young to know these things. None of her friends had been told about the creatures either, so it made her feel better not to be the only one who didn't know what was going on with the grown-ups.

Stuffy old windbags, all of them. Well… maybe except for her grandpa.

A slight commotion closer to the center of the village drew her attention, and she pushed some of her golden curls out of her sapphire eyes, tucking the offending hair behind her ear. She hurried to the edge of the balcony and looked down at the scene.

Strangers. Three of them.

In her whole life, she'd never seen strangers in Thamasa before. Two were men, and the other was a woman, who had the most beautiful jade green hair that she'd ever seen before. That hair was only accented by the red outfit she wore. But the young girl then noticed something else.

Weapons.

She'd seen pictures of weapons; swords, spears, bows and other things, but she'd never seen one in real life. No one needed weapons, not since the War of the Magi, she knew that. The woman carried a slightly curving sword at her hip, but the two men looked much more dangerous. The dark-haired man wore blue pants, a blue jacket and a dark shirt beneath, with a bandanna tied around his forehead. A pair of knives, or were they called daggers, hung at his waist.

The man dressed in black had a short-bladed sword on his back, and the most impressive dog she'd ever seen walked along at his side. The three of them stopped to talk amongst themselves for a moment while the young girl continued to watch.

_I wonder who they are_, she thought, _we never ever get strangers in Thamasa_.

* * *

"That must be the place," said Locke, looking at the house before them. It was a simple affair, are nice porch, shuttered windows, and a balcony that looked towards the village, and an easel sat out in the sun.

Terra took a deep breath as the three of them approached the front door and Locke used what looked to be a gold doorknocker.

A few moments later the door opened partway, and an elderly man stared out at them. He was slightly shorter than Terra, with an unruly tuft of white hair on an otherwise bald head, with bushy eyebrows to match his moustache. A large, wide nose was flanked by deep-set eyes that were nearly black, then in the right light seemed almost violet.

He wore voluminous robes and a cloak of crimson and gold hung from his shoulders. The old man stared at the group for a moment.

"Well? You gonna say what you want with me or are you just gonna look like beached fish all day?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

"Good sir," began Terra.

"Strago."

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

"My name," he said, "Strago. Don't you got a brain behind those eyes?"

"Locke Cole," answered the treasure hunter, "this is Terra, and that guy is Shadow."

Strago's eyes passed over each of them, and Terra felt a tiny flicker of… something, at the edges of her senses. The old man seemed to dismiss Locke almost instantly, while his gaze lingered on Terra and her hair, something that she had long ago gotten used to. Strago's gaze paused for a moment on Shadow, looking the ninja up and down, focusing on those cold gray eyes for just a moment longer than usual.

Almost unnoticed by the others, Interceptor let out a low whine.

The moment between the two men passed, and Strago turned his focus back to Locke and Terra.

"Master Strago," began Locke, "have you seen a hoard of Espers flying around the island? They would have arrived perhaps a week ago. They would have been hard not to notice, creatures of myth and legend, flying through air. Power was probably crackling around them."

Strago pulled at the edges of his moustache thoughtfully. "Espers… hmm. Not sure if I'm really all that familiar with the word. Sorry, boy."

"But you _have_ heard it before," clarified Terra.

Strago's eyes widened for a moment, and he looked away, as though thinking about what he'd said. But he shook his head forcefully.

"No, young lady. No, can't say that I've ever heard the word Esper before," he insisted, his dark eyes growing hard.

A door slammed behind Strago, and the old man nearly leapt into the air, spinning around. The front door inched open a bit more, allowing the Returners to see into the house, where a young girl in a red artist's cap stood in the hallway, pushing a few golden curls from her eyes.

"Just what in the name of the Ancients do you think you're doing, Relm Arrowny?!" he cried, one hand over his heart, "You nearly made my bloody heart stop beating!"

Relm ignored Strago's comment except for quickly sticking her tongue at him. Terra covered her mouth with a hand to keep from laughing. The young girl stared at the three strangers with unabashed curiosity.

"Grandpa, who are these people?" she asked excitedly, "They're strangers, right? Are they friends of yours? Kids of friends of yours? Do they know about those creatures or can they use…"

The girl was quickly silenced as Strago slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Hush, child," he said, in a voice more gentle than the Returners had expected, "you're not ready to know about that."

The girl looked up at Strago and nodded gently, then looked back out the door and let out a little squeal that even the old man's hand couldn't silence, then she broke out of Strago's grasp.

"Come here, boy! Come here!" she cried happily, slapping her hands against her thighs. The girl had eyes only for Interceptor.

The massive dog barked excitedly and padded into the house, nuzzling his face into Relm's shoulder, which was no higher than his. The young girl playfully hugged Interceptor and scratched behind his ears. Interceptor panted happily.

"What a cute doggy!" she said, looking over her shoulder at Strago.

Shadow folded his arms across his chest, and his gray eyes narrowed at the scene. Terra looked at the ninja, and couldn't tell if he was angry, or merely curious.

"I would step away from him, he bites," Shadow warned her. Under his breath he muttered to himself. "Cute. I have never heard Interceptor described as… cute."

Strago was red in the face and looked ready to throw them all out on their ear.

"RELM!" he roared, "You will go to your room this instant!"

"No I won't!" she yelled back, sticking her tongue at him again, "What a fussy old man, isn't he doggy?"

"Please, Relm," Strago continued in a softer voice. "You need to go. Play with the dog, but not here."

Relm instantly looked guilty, and though she didn't stop petting Interceptor, she looked at the floor and nodded.

"All right," she said, her voice sounding as guilty as she looked, "sorry Grandpa. Come on, boy!"

Relm ran deeper into the house, heading up the stairs with Interceptor right at her heels. From above, they could hear the sound of a door slamming shut.

Strago turned to face the others. "That girl sure seems to like your dog. I'm so sorry that she took him…"

"It's not a problem," Shadow interrupted, leaving looks of surprise on Terra and Locke's faces. "It is just that Interceptor usually doesn't take to people. He's as much a warrior as I am."

Locke nodded in eager agreement. Most of the time, Shadow was a more pleasant traveling companion. Interceptor seemed just as happy lying calmly on the ground as he did biting someone's hand off… literally. Locke flexed his left hand without thinking about it. He could swear his hand still hurt from when Interceptor bit it just outside of Kohlingen.

"Well, in any case, I hope you'll forgive my granddaughter's… exuberance," said Strago, his voice gaining that gravelly quality again. "She's just young, there's no keeping kids that age under control, is there?"

"I guess not," said Terra with a weak smile, thinking back to what she could remember of her own childhood as a slave to the Empire.

"Back to our original issue, though," began Locke.

"Look, boy," snapped Strago, "this is just a tiny village on an otherwise uninhabited island. We're simple people who know little about the rest of the world and could care even less. We don't know anything about these so-called _Espers_ of yours."

At that moment, the whistle of a tea kettle went off. Strago glanced towards a room that must have been the kitchen.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," he said firmly, "I think you can find your own way to the door."

The old man disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the three young Returners in the front room.

"There's something wrong here," muttered Locke.

Terra nodded in agreement. "Shadow was right. These people are lying to us, and they're not going to stop. I think we need to start looking around the village, see things for ourselves. As Setzer would say, we'll have to be real sneaky-like."

Locke chuckled, then turned as Strago came back into the room, a teacup in hand. Locke gave a fake smile.

"Thanks for your time," he said, nodding his head.

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help. Good fortune to you," replied Strago.

"Interceptor!" called Shadow, "Come!"

After a moment, a door opened upstairs, and Interceptor hurried down the stairs, followed by Relm, looking sad. She waved to Interceptor as he took his place at Shadow's side. They nodded to the two villagers and stepped out, Relm standing at the door watching them walk away.

Strago stayed by the kitchen, sipping thoughtfully at his tea. He was remembering a memory long forgotten, of a young dog, and a strong young man with eyes of gray steel.

* * *

The three Returners had split up after that. Since Terra knew she was no good at stealth, she made her way to the local inn and purchased a room for the night. She moved furniture around to make room for the two smaller beds that the innkeeper and his son brought up. Then she had stopped off to restock their supplies at one of the local shops.

Shadow and Locke had vanished, blending into the villagers and sticking to the shadows, doing their best to listen to the gossip. Terra waited anxiously for the two of them, and was only comfortable when they finally made their way back to inn just after dusk.

As the two men reported to Terra their distressing lack of news, they ended up telling her more gossip than they thought possible. By the end, Locke ended up at the window, staring up into the starlit sky while Shadow leaned against the door, with Terra seated on her bed.

Locke tuned out the sound of Terra asking Shadow some questions about the village. He looked up, seeing the stars and the empty space between them. He thought that a poet could make a romantic tragedy comparing the stars to Locke and Celes. He wondered if Celes was gazing at the stars now, thinking and being in awe of their majesty. Locke shook his head. He didn't know if Celes thought like that… _ever_. Maybe she never thought about him romantically, it had really only been hope on his part. His heart ached, remembering how cold her eyes were when she looked at him, and Locke knew he wasn't about to let Celes slip through his fingers. When he found her, he would apologize and get her to understand even if he had to grab her shoulders and shake it into her.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around, seeing that it was Terra.

"Are you alright, Locke?" she asked.

Locke swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine, why do you ask?"

"We've been trying to get your attention for the past few minutes," she said, smiling gently.

"Sorry," apologized Locke, "I was just thinking. Maybe I'm getting tired."

Terra hugged him, smiling brightly. Then she went over to Shadow, and surprisingly, hugged him too. Locke could see the ninja stiffen, unfamiliar with the show of emotion.

"I just wanted to thank you, both of you," she said, "I don't know what I'd be doing if you both weren't here."

"Get some sleep," Shadow told them gruffly, "we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

The ninja pulled off his boots and slipped under the covers of one of the small beds. Locke and Terra smiled at each other before doing the same.

* * *

Two hours past midnight, the door to the Returners' room was flung open with such force that the door was nearly ripped off its hinges. Locke groaned at the sudden light shining in his eyes, weakly peering at the figure standing in the doorway. For a moment, Locke would have sworn that it was an Esper standing there, based on the aura of pure power that hovered over the figure.

But that aura vanished as his eyes began to focus, and realized that it was the old man Strago standing there.

"Wake up!" yelled the old man, "Locke, Terra, Shadow, you must help me!"

Locke noticed that Terra began to stir in her bed, and Strago nearly ran over to her and began shaking her shoulder roughly.

"Hey, hey! That's enough! I'm awake!" she cried, sitting up in the bed.

As Locke sat up, he finally took a real look at Strago, and realized that the old man was in sleep clothes, his hair in disarray and his face held a look of panic.

"What's going on?" Locke asked.

"It's terrible, Relm, she's…"

"Relm's in danger?" gasped Terra.

Strago nodded frantically. "She was spending the night at a neighbor's house, something about a sleepover with one of her friends. Somehow a fire's broken out!" Strago's voice cracked at that point, and he had to swallow several times. "She's all I have in this world, if I lose her… Please, you must help!"

"Of course we'll help!" replied Terra, grabbing her boots and sliding them on over bare feet, draping her sleeping shift over it all. She ran out the door just behind Strago, yelling over her shoulder, "Come on, Locke!"

Locke struggled with his boots, then slipped his jacket over his shirt. Then he glanced to the side and saw that Shadow was still laying there, his breath slow and steady. In his haste, Locke didn't even notice that Interceptor was not at his usual place next to Shadow's bed.

"Shadow! What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" he cried, "For love of the Ancients, wake up! Didn't you hear?! Relm's in trouble!"

The ninja's only response was to shift slightly and turn his head from one side to the other.

"Burn you!" he cursed at Shadow, then ran out of the room.

As soon as his footsteps died away, a pair of gray eyes opened and Shadow sat up. He glanced down at the side of the bed, where Interceptor's usual spot was. He shook his head slowly.

"Interceptor, you soft-hearted old fool," he said with a quiet chuckle. Shadow began to calmly get dressed.

* * *

"What are you talking about, Locke?" Terra asked quietly as they followed a few steps behind Strago.

The large mansion in the center of the village was an inferno, flames leaping high into the air. The villagers had formed a bucket line from the well and were doing their best to get the flames under control. It was a losing battle.

"There was a kid earlier," said Locke, just as quietly, "I knew I saw a ball of flame in his hands, but I thought it was a trick of the light or maybe a technological invention that Edgar might have come up with. I didn't really think this tiny town could have kids who could use magic!"

Terra didn't have an opportunity to reply as Strago skidded to a halt in front of them. The mansion was only a few yards ahead, the doors and windows being eaten away by the flames.

"Relm!" Strago yelled at the top of his lungs.

As the three of them watched the other villagers toss water onto the mansion, a portion of the roof on the west wing collapsed on itself.

"NO! Relm!" cried Strago, who lurched forward but Locke grabbed him by the arm.

"We can't go in, you bloody fool!" cried the treasure hunter, "We'd be burned alive!"

Strago glared at the younger man, then turned back to the mansion, shaking off Locke's grip. The old man's shoulders seemed to hunch over, and he brought his hands close together. He began to murmur quietly to himself.

Terra suddenly felt that aura of power that she'd sensed when Strago had burst into their room at the inn. An aura that seemed very much like that of the Espers. Then Strago thrust one hand before him, palm up, fingers curled slightly.

The air around them suddenly seemed to become as dry as the Figaro Desert. Then all of the moisure taken away seemed to wash over the front of the mountain, releasing a series of popping and hissing bubbles among the flames. For a few moments the fire seemed to pull back, before it started crawling back.

"Bloody Ancients!" cursed the old man.

"Fool!" yelled a new voice, as a slightly younger man with salt and pepper hair and still fully dressed in red robes. He grabbed Strago by his collar and held on tight. "You know that we have forbidden the use of magic here!"

_How commonplace could magic be here_, wondered Terra? _It must be common for a child to use it, and for it have been forbidden. How many people here are like me? Could this have been a home for me?_

"I don't care!" Strago yelled back, "Relm is in there! I can't let her die! I have to save her!"

With surprising strength, Strago broke the other man's grip and pushed his hand towards the inferno, again drawing moisture from the air and hurling it at the mansion.

"Mayor!" cried a woman, "Please! We have to help the children! What good is this wretched power if we forbid ourselves from using it to save an innocent's life?"

The mayor looked unhappy. In fact, he looked almost furious. But he nodded sharply.

"Very well," he said, "it seems we have little choice. Stand back. All who possess knowledge of spells commanding water or ice step forward! We must cast together. Bring our spells about in unity, it may help to drive the flames back!"

Nearly a dozen of the other villagers stepped forward with Strago and the mayor. They began summoning the power for their spells together, and Terra was nearly overwhelmed by the power that seethed like river rapids from these ordinary-looking people.

Waves of water, blasts of ice, and a gale of cold wind were hurled at the flame-engulfed mansion at once; an explosion of power that put a coating of frost over the walls, soaked the wood and drove the flames away.

Terra was about to let out a victory cheer when the wall just to the left of the main entrance collapsed inward, and flames burst out into the night air. With that, the fires seemed to redouble their intensity, exploding into many more pillars of flame.

Strago nearly screamed in frustration. "It's no use!" he cried, "The fire's too strong!"

The mayor nodded in agreement. Locke overheard him mutter something about "too many fire rods," but didn't call the mayor on it.

"What can we do?!" cried Terra.

"I'm going in!" declared Strago.

"I'll go with you," agreed Terra.

"You can count me in," volunteered Locke, but he put a hand on Strago's shoulder, "but you should stay out here, Gramps. It's far too dangerous for you. Terra and I can handle it, we'll find Relm for you."

"Young fool, think you know everything?!" cried Strago, shoving Locke's hand away, "I may be old, but I'm not powerless. Sometimes experience counts in this world boy!"

Without another word, the older man raced ahead flinging a hand before him. A gust of wind roared around him and the front door to the mansion flew off its hinges. Terra and Locke shared a look before following him inside.

Their eyes began to instantly water from the bright flames, and they started coughing on the acrid smoke. Strago tore off a strip of his sleeve, tying it behind his head to cover his mouth and nose. Locke and Terra gaped at the old man for a moment, then followed suit.

Flames danced in every doorway, and smoke filled the air at their heads.

Terra suddenly cried out when a small red creature squeaked under her feet and then let out a piercing shriek. A moment later the creature exploded in a fiery burst. Terra cried out in pain as the explosion scorched her leg. Looking around, she saw dozens of such creatures all around the mansion. Some hung to the walls and ceilings, others put themselves under a piece of furniture before they detonated, shredding the item along with themselves.

"What are…?"

"We call them Bombs!" Strago yelled over the roar of the flames, "Creatures from a hellish world beyond ours, forged of pure flame! A few sometimes make it into our world in large fires, but I've never heard of anything like this before! They feed on and are healed by fire, so don't use weapons of fire against them!"

"I left my flame saber at the inn," moaned Terra.

"My weapons are there too," agreed Locke, who coughed several times, "I guess we have avoid those things."

"That'll be hard, they're everywhere!" cried Terra.

One of the creatures stood in the doorway before them and chittered in an indecipherable language at them before exploding. The detonation caused the frame and part of the wall to collapse, blocking off the doorway.

Terra was sweating from the intense heat all around them. "Where can we go?!"

"Up!" cried Strago, "Knowing Relm, she'll be as high up as she can go. Third floor, move it kids!"

"We're not kids," growled Locke.

Strago led the way up the stairs, flinging a blast of ice-cold air at any of the Bombs that got in his way. Terra was amazed at the ease with which this old magic hurled his spells and magic about. Terra and Locke continuously yelled out Relm's name, hoping they would hear a reply over the roar of the flames. As they began to ascend the stairs to the third floor, they all had to keep hopping about as the floor beneath their feet was almost too hot to stand on properly as it burned from below them. The smoke grew thicker too, until the three of them had to stand shoulder-to-shoulder to see each other. Ducking their heads beneath the smoke was the only way to get some free air and see clearly.

Now on the highest floor of the mansion, the three of them began to examine each room, still yelling out for Relm. As they broke down one door, the heat intensified tenfold, but at the same time seemed to burn through the smoke that kept them blinded and coughing.

Before them was a massive ball of roiling flames hovering in the center of the room. Gasses spun and boiled around it, and six Bombs that were at least the height of Locke's waist seemed to stand guard.

Strago stared at it dumbfounded.

"What is that?!" cried Terra.

"A Flame Eater," gasped Strago, "I've never heard of one actually entering our world. The Magi wrote of them, but never crossing through…" Strago suddenly seemed to shake himself out of his stupor, and his voice became firm once again. "That's the source of this blaze! Think of it as what the Bombs downstairs could one day become. It too, is feeding off of this inferno, gaining strength and creating more Bombs to spread the blaze! We've managed to keep it contained to the mansion, but if we falter it could very well consume the whole village!"

"Time to skip the lesson!" yelled Locke, reaching under his shirt and pulling out a crystal shard of swirling color.

"Magicite?" gasped Strago.

"Bismark, Lord of the Deep, help us douse these flames!" cried Locke. The form of the ancient Esper coalesced behind the young treasure hunter, taking the form of pure white whale that filled the room behind him. The Esper's face filled with rage and indignation, and across the length of the room a wave of sparkling blue water formed. Bismark raced forward, the wall of water following behind him. Bismark slammed into the Flame Eater, while the water sizzled and popped as it washed over the Bombs.

Terra then pulled out her own shard. "Help us, Shiva!" she cried.

The ethereal, ice-blue form of the Esper formed next to Terra, her hair floating in an invisible wind. Shiva brought her hands together, palms facing the fiery creatures. Cold wind with shards of ice spread throughout the room, piercing the Flame Eater and the Bombs. The Bombs were unable to withstand the power of two Espers, and Shiva's icy power caused them to completely frost up, then they toppled to the ground, shattering.

Strago was astounded. Espers had died and given their powers to these people. What was so special about them? How could they have been trusted by the Espers? And what were the Espers doing back in this world? They had formed their own world a thousand years ago and exiled themselves there after the War of the Magi. So what had they been doing flying overhead the other week?

But he overcame his surprise and turned back to the Flame Eater. Relm was still here and they had to get to her. That had to be the only thought in his mind.

He summoned up power of the ancient spells that he had mastered over his long life, spells that few of his fellow Thamasans knew. There was almost no moisture left in the mansion, but he knew his magic pulled the water not just from this world but from a world of endless water as well.

The air around the Flame Eater exploded in hissing and popping bubbles of water as it sizzled against the creature. Suddenly a wave of the most intense, fiery heat shot out from the creature in all directions. All three of them cried out in pain as their skin began to sizzle and burn.

Terra could barely concentrate, but she knew she needed one more burst of energy. She drew upon her own strength and saw the ice form in her mind. She threw her hand forward and saw the ice begin to creep over the Flame Eater. Locke's own magic quickly joined her own, and then Strago threw a similar spell.

With a final hissing sputter of fire, the creature's flames seemed to consume itself and it fell to the ground in ashes.

Strago did not waste a breath for their victory, but instead cried out, "Relm! Where are you?!"

A pair of loud barks drew their attention, and all three turned around to see a massive dog standing defiantly in the doorway.

"Interceptor?" gasped Terra.

The dog barked again and turned back into the hallway, dodging flaming debris.

"Come on, let's follow him!" exclaimed Terra.

"Since when did people start following the dogs?" muttered Locke as he and Strago followed Terra and Interceptor.

The massive dog led them to a room two doors down, where he pushed aside a small table with his front paws to reveal two small forms.

"Relm!" cried Strago.

He swiftly scooped the unconscious girl into his arms, grimacing at the ash and smoke stains that covered her face. Locke saw that the other form was that of the boy he'd seen earlier that day, holding the ball of fire. He picked up the boy.

"Let's get out of…" started Strago, but he didn't finish before a stray beam broke off from the ceiling and hit the back of his head. Strago collapsed in a heap, Relm's body beneath his.

"Strago!" yelled Terra, "Come on, Locke, we have to get them out of here!"

Locke looked to the doorway and began to panic. "We can't! There are Bombs all over the place and they're coming closer!"

"Locke! Look out!" screamed Terra.

She ran at her friend, trying to push him out of the way of debris that was falling towards him. But shock and heat exhaustion had slowed his reactions, and he hardly moved when Terra crashed into him. They both looked up at the same time, and could only brace themselves as the beams and boards crashed down on top of them.

Interceptor howled and first pushed Strago off of Relm's body, then began using his front paws and muzzle to push the debris off of the others. A sizzling sound drew the dog's attention as a pair of Bombs came past the door. Interceptor growled and moved over to the doorway, standing defiantly in the creatures' way.

The two creatures eyed Interceptor warily, then one moved ahead. Interceptor lunged forward, snatching the creature in his jaws, ignoring the pain the fires caused him, then hurled the creature into its companion, both exploded in a shower of sparks. Interceptor ignored the scorching sparks that landed on him.

However, four more of the Bombs had moved through the doorway, and several more were approaching. Interceptor stepped backwards, trying to keep all of the creatures in front of him, but there was no way he could hold them all back.

Suddenly, a black form dropped from the ceiling, landing amongst the Bombs. He drew his short-bladed sword, slashing through the creatures next to him, then hurled a series of shuriken at the rest. Those Bombs still in the doorway backed off for a moment.

Interceptor barked in victory. Shadow turned to regard the dog for a moment.

"You didn't think I'd actually come, did you?" he asked, but Interceptor only stared at him serenely, "But at the same time you knew I'd come to help you. You bring out the worst in me, you know that, right?"

For a moment, Shadow would have sworn that Interceptor grinned.

"Time to get the bloody hell out of there," he said darkly, and a small white pouch appeared in his hand. Shadow threw the pouch at the door, where it exploded into a thick white fog. Under the cover of the smoke bomb, Shadow and Interceptor began to move the others.

* * *

Coughs wracked her body, and Relm felt hands helping her sit up, gently patting her back to help her through the coughing spell. After several moments, they finally stopped, and Relm felt strong enough to try opening her eyes. The light was too bright, and it hurt, but she tried to fight her way through it. Little by little, she was able to open her eyes and keep them open.

The first thing she saw was the worried face of her grandfather, and behind him were the strangers from earlier. The green-haired woman and the man with bandanna stood near her bed. The man in black was leaning against the doorframe.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" asked Strago, gently stroking her hair.

"I'm…" Relm's voice was raspy and her throat hurt. Now that she thought about it, her lungs burned slightly with every breath. Strago reached over and handed her a tall glass of water. It soothed her throat and even seemed to cool down her lungs.

"Don't try to talk too much," Strago told her, "you breathed in a lot of smoke last night. It took a great deal to heal you up."

"Rickan!" she gasped, "Is he…?"

"Your friend is fine," her grandfather assured her, "in deep trouble for the havoc he caused last night. He won't be sitting for a while, but he'll live."

"I'm sorry, Grandpa," Relm said sadly, "I know you've told me never to play with magic, since it can be so dangerous. But Rickan had figured out how to make fire and he was so proud and I wanted to see him do it and…"

Strago silenced her with a finger to her lips and a kiss on her forehead. "It's all right, Relm. The important thing is that you two are safe. The mansion can be rebuilt. You can't."

Relm had tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms around Strago's neck.

"Thank you, Grandpa!" she said tearfully, "I love you."

Strago pulled back slightly so that Relm could see the others. "You should save your thanks for these people. Locke and Terra came with me to find you. I don't know what happened exactly but it was Shadow that I found pulling me away from the flames after I was knocked unconscious."

"Thank you," Relm said quietly.

"Now," said Strago, standing up from the bed, "now that I know you're going to be all right, it's time for you to get some rest and heal. Don't talk too much, but for you that's a bit too much to hope for. We'll just be downstairs if you need us."

Strago turned and motioned for the others to follow him. Shadow remained where he was as the others filed past. Interceptor moved to follow but the ninja held out a hand. His gray eyes flicked over to the pouting girl.

"Interceptor, stay," he ordered.

"He can stay?!" gasped Relm happily. At Shadow's slight nod she let out a cheer. "Yes! Come here, doggy! Come here!"

Interceptor hesitated only a moment before turning to the girl and bounding into the bed with her. Relm laughed and wrapped her small arms around the massive animal's neck. Without a word, Shadow turned and followed the others down the stairs. All three had made their way to the kitchen, where Terra and Locke had sat down. Shadow leaned against the doorframe while Strago busied himself with making a large cup of tea.

"So," he said finally, sitting down heavily across from Terra and Locke, "it would see that our village's little secret is out now."

"Can everyone here use magic?" asked Locke, ignoring his normal tact, "Yesterday, no one we asked about Espers seemed surprised about it. They all seemed worried that they were going to spill a huge secret, but they weren't scared of us coming into a town and asking about beings that have been gone from our world for a thousand years. So what in the name of the Ancients is going on in this crazy village?"

"This village," said Strago slowly, "is the… we are the descendants of the Magi and their Knights Arcane."

"Mage Warriors, you mean?" asked Locke, "But I thought they all died with the rest of the Magi?"

"Not all of them," said Strago, taking a deep breath. "Near the end of the War of the Magi, the Espers, under the leadership of their eldest, an Esper named Tenteki, formed their own world and then retreated to it, leaving behind only the Sealed Gate. The Magi either had not known or not cared that the Espers were slowly destroying themselves as they continued to fight the war. They wanted the peace that had been their life before the war.

"During the course of the war, the Magi had harnessed the raw power that was the core of the Espers and used it to infuse mortals with magical power, thus creating the Knights Arcane. Only the greatest of the various generals and commanders were given this power. With the end of the war, people began to hunt the Knights. The Magi and the Espers were both gone, and there was no one else left to take the blame. The Knights were forced to band together, joining with the surviving children and families of the Magi, and then they set about trying to find a place where they too, could live in peace. Eventually they came to Crescent Isle and built Thamasa."

"So all of you here in Thamasa are direct descendants of the Knights Arcane and the Magi," murmured Terra.

"For the most part," agreed Strago, "but Thamasa has also held a strange way of attracting outcasts, and over the centuries the occasional outsiders have joined our village. Their blood, along the centuries that have passed has diluted much of the magic that flows through us. Less than half of the people here are able to wield the powers of magic. Those of us who can form the Village Council. But records fade and stories are lost, and to this day there is little that is known of that ancient time.

"But I have made the lore of the ancient world my life's study. I know more about the war and the millennium since than anyone else in Thamasa. What you saw me use at the house was a spell unlike any you have seen before; magic lost to all since the War of the Magi."

Terra and Locke were staring at the older man with awe. Strago had lived at least seventy years by their estimation. His knowledge would be invaluable.

"Will Relm possess the same power as you do?" asked Terra.

"I doubt it," answered Strago, "while Relm does have an aptitude for magic, she does not have the drive to study like I did. No, she will not know the ancient lore that I have learned. I think she has more of her father's temperament."

Strago smiled wistfully, thinking back to earlier years. Terra and Locke remained silent, sharing a look to allow Strago a few moments with his thoughts.

Terra took a deep breath. It was time to ask him, and it was what she needed to do. She stared at the ground as she spoke.

"Strago, we need your help," she told him, trying to speak without letting her voice tremble. "The other week, my friends and I traveled to the Sealed Gate, and we… I, opened it and called forth the Espers."

Terra peeked up to look at the older man's face, shame filling her at what she had done. But Strago's face held no emotion; no anger or shock or regret. He simply nodded, understanding what she had done.

"The Espers came out like a flood and ravaged the city of Vector, where Emperor Gestahl had been holding several Espers captive, draining them of their power to fuel his Magitek weapons, including the creation of some Magitek Knights. The Espers nearly destroyed the city, but then they fled. Gestahl told us that the Espers were seen making their way to Crescent Isle. Most of our friends are still in Vector, but Locke and I came to find the Espers. Shadow was hired by the Empire to do the same."

"And what do you want from the Espers?" asked Strago.

"We want to stop them from hurting anyone else," she replied, "and prevent any other cities from being destroyed like Vector nearly was. I need to meet with the Espers and prove to them that the Empire will not being harming anyone else, especially any more Espers."

Strago nodded slowly, his blue-green eyes boring into Terra like Edgar's drill. She shifted nervously under that gaze.

"What makes you think the Espers will even listen to you?" he asked.

Terra took a deep breath, hoping she didn't get the reaction she was expecting.

"My mother was Madonna Branford, an enemy of Emperor Gestahl. My father was Maduin, an Esper."

Strago's mouth fell open and he stared at Terra in open astonishment. He slowly began to shake his head back and forth in disbelief.

"I never knew that Espers could join with humans," he whispered, "we were always taught it was impossible. Espers could never bear children, each was individually created. No one believed that a child could be born of a union between Esper and human. How much else do we not know?"

His mutterings died down as he gazed at each of the three younger people in turn. Strago's blue-green gaze met Terra's emerald eyes, Locke's intent brown look, and Shadow's gray stare.

"I owe you for having saved Relm's life last night," he said deliberately, "and for that reason, among others, I shall help you find the Espers."


	29. Chapter 27: Final Rest of the Magi

HE LIVES! Well, I know that it's been months, if not years since I last updated this story, and to those fans out there, I am sorry. I got married a month ago, and have inherited two stepdaughters, so turning into a family man has wreaked havoc on my writing ability. Add to that the fact that my wife is pestering to keep working on another of my stories, the fact that I have a few other projects (like 10) that I'm working on, plus work and keeping up a semblance of a social life, and well… you can see the problem for my stories. However, I haven't forgotten Test of Time, and will continue to work on it, slow as the progress may be.

I had recently gotten some reviews, and they finally kicked me out of the apathy and the writer's block that I had with this chapter. Hopefully I'll be able to update a little more often. In any event, thank you to those who keep reading, and enjoy…

* * *

The morning sun was warm on their backs as the three young heroes followed Strago up the mountain paths. According to the old loremaster, the paths had been forged when the Knights Arcane and the families of the Magi had originally settled Thamasa, but all generations since had been forbidden from ascending.

The punishment had been exile.

"Come on, kids!" called Strago, a hundred feet ahead of them on the rocky, overgrown path, "Hurry up! The day's not gonna last forever!"

Locke nearly growled. "If he tells me to hurry up one more time I'll…"

"Do nothing," finished Shadow, not even sparing a single glance at the young rogue. "You'll do nothing because you won't harm an ally, no matter how annoying."

Terra did her best to stifle her chuckle as Locke turned red. Whether from anger or embarrassment, she couldn't tell.

"I can still give him a piece of my mind," Locke grumbled.

Even as he said it, Locke knew it was petty, and probably would be no good in any case. He easily remembered the shouting match between Strago and Relm that morning. The young girl had not been too keen on being left behind.

"We'll need to follow some paths up the mountains to the west," Strago had told them as the sun began to rise over the horizon, "there are legends that they hide powerful magical energies. Some of us also believe that it might have been in these mountains where the Espers were first created, but no one will ever know for certain."

Relm had appeared at that point, dressed for hiking, with a backpack already over her shoulders, a sketchbook peaking out through the top and brushes and pens overflowing from every pocket.

"I'm ready to go, too!" she'd announced.

"What do you think you're doing, Relm?" demanded Strago, "There is absolutely no way you are going on this journey!"

"I will so!" she'd yelled at him, "I'm old enough to help!"

"Are you old enough to get yourself killed?" Strago had yelled back, "Understand that there are no guarantees, and there are still dangerous creatures in the mountains! We might end up getting hurt or killed trying to protect you!"

"I can protect myself!" Relm insisted, "You taught me that much! I have enough magic to keep someone away from me!"

"You're not going!" roared Strago.

"Yes I am!" she'd yelled back.

Strago's face was full of thunderclouds, and his entire body had been trembling. Suddenly, Terra had felt the energy rise, more energy than she was capable of channeling at this point, and lightning crackled around Strago's hands. Relm recognized it too, unconsciously taking a step back.

But then, the energy had withdrawn as quickly as it had come, and Strago's face had softened.

"Please, Relm," he'd said quietly, "you're all I have left in the world. If I lost you, I wouldn't survive. Please stay here, where you're safe. I'd never be able to let you take care of yourself, not when I'm there at the same time."

Relm had looked like she was about to cry, but she'd acquiesced. Although her "fuddy-duddy" was shouted at their backs as they'd walked away from the house.

Locke shook his head. Yeah, giving Strago a piece of his mind wasn't likely to stop the old man from hurling insults at them.

An hour later, Strago stopped to rest. He might have been a little faster at clambering over the rocks than they, but his endurance had run out while their's was still fresh.

"Getting tired already, old man?" Locke teased.

They ate a small meal as they rested their feet. Shadow had given a single whistle, and Interceptor had bounded out of the bushes to his feet to share in the meal. As they finished their meal, Strago made his way over to the ninja.

"Master Shadow," he said slowly, "about the other night, I just wanted to…"

Shadow held up a hand, stopping the old man. "You have no idea of who I am, old man. So I don't want you to misunderstand my intentions. I just needed to get Interceptor back. I couldn't care less if you or your whelp died. Interceptor sometimes fails to think before he acts, and he rushed into the house to help the girl. One of his… less intelligent decisions, I fear."

Strago saw the ninja's eyes crinkle a bit, and for a moment could almost imagine the man was smiling.

But Shadow abruptly stood up and began walking away.

"Hey, where are you going?" asked Locke, very concerned about the ninja's apparent departure.

"I will search for the Espers my own way," answered Shadow, "I don't like working in groups, and I think that searching separately will enable us to find the Espers that must faster, being able to cover more ground, don't you agree? Besides, you should know by now that I work better alone."

Without waiting for a response, Shadow leapt over a series of rocks, bounding into the trees and bushes with Interceptor on his heels. In the span of only a few heartbeats, they'd vanished.

Terra noticed that Strago's eyes had narrowed, watching the spot the ninja had disappeared.

"Don't worry about him, he's always like that," she assured the older mage.

Strago nodded once, and Terra stepped away. Under his voice, Strago muttered, "Impossible man. Just like…"

He shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind.

"Well kids," he announced loudly, "we should get going. This mountain's not gonna climb itself, and the day is still young. I feel as if I am too! Come on, hurry!"

Locke glowered at the older man's back. "If he tells me to hurry up one more time…"

* * *

They climbed for two more hours before Terra began to feel a strange sensation in her mind. The same feeling that she got whenever she'd been around the Espers. Following her sense, the three travelers took more treacherous paths further around the cliffs, deeper into the mountains, until the view towards Thamasa and the ocean was completely blocked.

Locke looked upwards as they walked, the sky seeming to turn dark and threatening, as if a storm was brewing, but it didn't look like there was any rain coming.

"Terra," he called, "we need to get some shelter. Something's happening."

Terra turned to look behind her at Locke and Strago. Lost in the sensation she was feeling, she'd almost forgotten they were with her.

"There are some caves here," said Strago, pulling a clump of bushes away from the rock face, revealing a small entrance barely enough for them to sit down in. Locke knelt next to the older man and peered inside.

"I can't see anything beyond a few feet, but from what I can see I think the cave gets bigger," he reported.

"We need to go in," Terra said in a quiet voice.

The two men looked at her. One set of eyes was confused, the other set was evaluating. Then they shared a glance and nodded. Strago pulled out a rod about half as thick around as his wrist and crawled in, the end of the rod suddenly glowed with flames. The three of them maneuvered their way inside, and the fire at the end of the rod glowed brighter, filling the cave with a reddish glow.

"Tunnel," said Locke simply, then hurried ahead, the others right at his heels. The passage quickly narrowed to the point that they had to travel single file, then had to turn sideways to shimmy their way through. Terra smiled in the darkness.

_It's a good thing the others aren't here_, she thought, _Sabin and Cyan would never fit through here._

She had to resist the urge to giggle at the thought.

The tunnel unexpectedly opened to a small ledge, and all three gasped. The fire rod revealed a massive cavern, spanning nearly a hundred feet over their heads, and in front of them was a chasm that disappeared into the darkness. A single stone bridge wide enough for two people to walk carefully led from the ledge out into the cavern.

"By the Ancients," whispered Strago in awe, "it's true."

"What?" asked Locke.

"The statues," answered the old mage, his voice only barely above a whisper as he pointed out to the center of the cavern.

There, on an island of stone in the middle of the black nothingness of the chasm, a single light shone from the ceiling, illuminating a trio of glimmering golden statues. They were too far away to make out any details, but Locke was already racing across the stone bridge.

"Haha! Now this is treasure!" he laughed out loud.

Terra and Strago hurried after him, both grimacing as the rogues laughter echoed throughout the cavern. The bridge did not lead straight to the statues on the island, but rather made several abrupt turns. Locke slowed down to stay within the radius of Strago's fire rod so he wouldn't run off the edge of the bridge, and Terra began to realize there must have been a pattern to this, but couldn't figure out what it was.

The three of them arrived at the island and gazed at the statues in wonder. All three shone with golden light that they could not tell whether it was from the light from above or a radiance of their own. Each sat on a marble pedestal, and was the size of a person. All three were shaped in the form of a beautiful woman. One would have been young, no older than Terra. Another was a woman in her prime, and the third was clearly an elderly woman, though still handsome.

Despite their obvious age, they seemed unmarked by time; there was not a speck of dust on any of them, and the features of all three women were crisp and clear as if the artist had finished the sculpture only just that day.

"Say, old man," started Locke, gazing at the statues as if they were a long-lost lover, "what else can you tell us about these exquisite ladies?"

Strago seemed at once to be afraid… and sad. "Their names are lost to the ages, but these women were the last of the Magi," he said, gently putting a hand on one of the pedestals. "It is said that when the Espers left this world, the Magi that were left became even more vicious, releasing monsters in a pale imitation of the Espers. Magic ran wild and uncontrolled, and some Magi were torn apart by their own enchantments. Finally, only these three women were left.

"Realizing that their magic had torn the world apart, the three women came here, and using the last of their power, drew in the power of all magic across the world. They harnessed it within their own bodies, their own spirits. Then they transformed themselves into these statues, so that their power would never be used. This has been their final resting place for a thousand years. For all that time they have harnessed the magic of the world within themselves. Since then, they have become known as the Goddesses."

"Sooo… they're goddesses of magic then?" Locke asked in confirmation, and Strago nodded in reply.

Terra could feel the power within them, pulsing like a living being. It was power beyond that which she'd felt within Strago or herself. It was beyond what she'd felt from the Esper in Narshe. The power made her ache to give in to the part of her that was Esper; to morph into the other form and pull that energy into herself. Energy that should incinerate a mortal body… energy that a human could never truly appreciate… It was energy that could reshape the world.

She shook her head, clearing those thoughts from her mind.

"These statues represent the source of all magic," continued Strago, "power beyond imagining."

"If the Espers were attracted to Crescent Isle by the power of these statues, then they _must_ be around here somewhere!" reasoned Terra. "Locke! Are you coming?"

Locke tore his gaze away from the statues and turned to his friend. He shook his head slightly, his mind now coming to grips with the reality of the situation before them. For years he'd sought out treasure, then pursued revenge. Now, his safe little world of plundering and information gathering had turned into the monumental task of keeping a secret on possibly the greatest source of power in the world.

"Locke," said Terra quietly, and rogue turned to face his friend. "Come on, we have to keep looking for the Espers."

He nodded and began to follow her out, when a drop of something landed on his cheek. Locke brought a hand up to brush it away, and found it sticking to his hand.

"Uggh, what is this?" he wondered aloud.

"What?" asked Strago.

"This glob of…" Locke's voice trailed off as recognition formed in his mind, and he looked up. "Look out!"

Terra and Strago looked up as Locke leapt backwards, then they too scattered as the massive purple body of Ultros dropped from the ceiling and directly into their midst.

"You lot have escaped me one time too many," snarled the creature, "and while your friends may stay safe and protected in the fields of Vector, you two crossed my domain. Now I will finish you off one… by… one!"

Terra and Strago tried to hurry around Ultros, trying to get away from the edge of the platform. Although Ultros' eyes were honed in on Locke with malicious glee, a pair of tentacles whipped around, knocking the other two off the feet. A third tentacle slammed into Locke, knocking him back into one of the pedestals.

Ultros laughed and turned his gaze to the statues. "Now they are mine! The power of the Goddesses shall come to me, and the world will tremble as the Lord of the Deep displays his power!"

"Fiend!" spat Strago, "You are no descendant of the Ocean Lords! Your claim to the title of Lord of the Deep is a false one!"

"False? FALSE?" roared Ultros, "I _am_ descended of the Ocean Lords! Does not my presence here, on land, far from water prove it! Perhaps I shall take you down with me to my realm! Deny me my birthright then! You are no Magi! You make the false claims! YOU are the fraud! A pretender!"

"You won't beat us," growled Locke, as the three of them made a united front, "you never learn."

"I was always said to be a slow learner, but as you will find out… I eat _fast_!"

Tentacles lashed out at the three adventurers. Strago and Terra took blows to their chests and were knocked to the ground. Locke spun around the blow, driving his dagger into the purple tentacle. Odd-colored blood flowed from the wound before the tentacle was withdrawn.

Terra climbed back to her feet and rushed in, managing to stab Ultros on the side of his mouth, but two tentacles grabbed her arms and began to pull in opposite directions.

"Let's see how well you fight when missing two of your limbs," snarled Ultros.

"Let her go, boy!" roared Strago. His hands rose above his head, forming a ball of fire between them. The old wizard seemed to throw the ball of flame into the ground, where it raced towards Ultros, and a lance of flame thrust itself into his face. Ultros screamed in agony, tentacles snapping.

Terra found herself hurled through the air and crashed into Strago, knocking the wind out of both of them.

Locke drew a crescent-shaped blade from behind his belt. He'd been toying with the weapon for a while, and now was as good a time as any to test it out. Locke hurled the blade, snapping his wrist as it left his hand. The blade spun end over end, curving in an arc. The edges of the blade had been honed razor-sharp, except for one small bit for Locke's hand. The crescent blade struck Ultros, tearing a long gash along his purple flesh and continued in its arc, then curved back towards Locke who caught it just as he'd been practicing.

_Hey_, thought Locke, _that worked out surprisingly well_.

"Insufferable wretch!" bellowed Ultros, "I will _destroy_ you!"

Six tentacles whipped forward, a pair slamming into Terra and Strago, knocking the two of them back to the ground, and the other four hammered at Locke from four different directions. The crescent blade was knocked from his hand, and the final blow sent the young rogue stumbling backwards. Locke banged his head against the pedestal of one of the statues, opening up a gash along the side of his head. Blood quickly stained his collar and began seeping down his shirt.

"Now," Ultros growled slowly, "you die."

"I don't think so!" a voice sing-songed. A figure suddenly appeared bouncing into the air, landing atop Ultros' head, causing the creature to roar, then just as quickly sprang off.

Relm landed amidst the others, next to Terra and Strago.

"Grandpa, I'm here!" she cheered.

"Relm?" shrieked Strago. The old man scrambled to his feet, glaring at the young girl. "I told you to stay home!"

"But it's so boring there," she said, her words contrasting with the happiness in her voice. She reached into her backpack, and then brandished a brush and her sketchbook. "Besides, I just couldn't miss a chance to practice my painting."

She winked at Strago, then turned to Ultros, and smiled as if seeing the monstrous creature for the first time. "Say sweetie, who are you? Would you mind posing for a portrait?"

"Sweetie? How dare you! I am Ultros! Lord of the Deep, Master of the Sea Realm and descendant of the Ocean Lords of the Age of the Magi!"

"That all sounds really cool!" Relm said with a wide grin. "Listen, Ulty, someone as powerful as you needs their portrait done. Why don't you strike a pose for me?"

"I am no child to be drawn as a stick figure!" Ultros roared, "Do not dare speak to me as if I were a mortal child! I will pose for no portrait!"

Relm sniffed, and suddenly looked like she was about to cry. "Fine. Mean old king. You don't even deserve a portrait. I don't even _want_ to paint you anymore."

The young girl let out a few more choked sobs. Ultros' rage seemed to be dissipating, as he merely split his glare between Relm and the others. Terra moved over to Relm and put a hand on the younger girl's shoulder.

Terra was shocked when Relm winked at her, then turned back to continue her sobbing.

Terra turned to Ultros, her eyes burning like green flame. "How dare you!" she snarled at Ultros, "You make a claim of royalty, but you don't even know how to treat a young girl! You have not an ounce of nobility in you, for all your claims!"

Ultros' glare became one of irritation and indignation. "And what exactly, would you have me do?" he snarled.

"Ask her to draw your bloody portrait," said Locke, then he sneered, "she might actually make you look pleasant."

Then, under his breath, Locke muttered, "If nothing else, it'll get her quiet for a few moments."

Ultros' spiteful glare roved over each of them in turn, but he was silent for some time. He seemed to be weighing his options in his head.

"Very well," said Ultros at last. "You… whelp. You may paint a portrait of me. Be sure to catch the majesty of the Lord of the Deep, before I look… unpleasant, when I eat your friends."

Relm let out a loud cheer and spun around, holding her sketchbook in one hand as her paintbrush moved in a blur.

"Trust me, Uncle Ulty, you're gonna _love_ it!" she exclaimed.

Everyone was silent for a few moments as her brush looped and whirled across the paper. After several seconds, Relm seemed to be finished, and was looking at what she'd drawn with a critical eye. Then she nodded to herself, closed her eyes and put a hand on the paper.

The paper beneath her hand glowed with a soft yellow light, then the image that Terra, Locke and Strago could just barely see began to shine. Suddenly the portrait seemed to leap off the page and grow massively. In the blink of an eye, the portrait, an exact duplicate of Ultros, right down to the cuts on its tentacles and face hovered in the air in front of Relm.

Silently, the creation slammed one tentacle into Ultros, who grunted in pain and moved backwards in surprise.

"Incredible," murmured Terra, a small smile on her face.

Locke was staring at the young girl with his mouth wide open, but Strago split his watchful gaze between his granddaughter and Ultros.

Ultros stared at the illusion in front of him with a mixture of disgust and horror.

"How…" he started, "how can this be? Truly, am I no more than a stupid octopus? Am I truly seen as nothing more than a joke? No greater than a thousand others of my people beneath the waves? Does no one see my ancestry? I… I can't…"

Ultros roared in pain and grief and rage, a deafening sound that echoed throughout the chamber. Then he used his tentacles to spring into the air and over the side of the ledge, disappearing into the darkness of the chasm below.

"That… was… _awesome_!" yelled Relm, jumping up and down in victory as the illusionary portrait of Ultros faded away. "Gramps, did you see me? Did you see me? I was _awesome_!"

"Young lady," growled Strago, "I thought I told you…"

"I suppose it can't hurt to have you along," interrupted Terra, smiling at the young girl, "you have a pretty powerful talent, especially for such a young girl."

"Yeah, I know," replied Relm smugly, posing and preening.

_Oh Ancients_, thought Locke, _Edgar's bad enough, but are we going to have to endure a miniature _female _version of him too? Kill me now and end my misery. Please?_

Strago was looking at Terra, who returned his gaze with one of her own. After a few moments, the older man nodded.

"If you insist, then I won't stand in the way, Relm," he said softly.

"Awesome!" cheered Relm, then she ran over to Strago and wrapped him in a big hug. "Did you really think I was just gonna stay home by myself, Grandpa?"

Strago laughed quietly as he shook his head ruefully. "I should have known better."

"Wait a minute, kid," said Locke, "I was keeping a pretty close eye out on our way here. Were you following us the whole time?"

"Well… yeah," answered the young girl, "except once the clouds and the lightning started moving in, then I ducked into a cave. I was just trying to find my way around and get back to Gramps when I found this room from over there."

She turned and pointed, down a stone bridge like that which Locke and the others had used to get to the statues, going off to a side cavern.

"There was some kind of really cool-looking door in the ground there too," continued Relm, "but I couldn't get it open."

"That might be where the Espers are hiding," commented Terra. "Let's go."

The four of them made their way from the stone island, leaving the golden statues behind them. Relm quickly led the others to the trapdoor that she mentioned, and Locke and Terra knelt down next to it while Strago pulled Relm to one side to talk quietly with her.

Locke pulled a few items from his backpack, including some lockpicks and a crowbar, and began to work at the door in silence.

Terra looked at him. "What is it?" she asked.

"Dunno," was Locke's short reply, "things aren't going right. And that kid… heh, she and Edgar together are gonna be handful, that's for sure."

Locke finished with more cheer than he felt. Something was making the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he didn't like the feeling.

Terra smiled as she glanced at Relm. "Yeah, she is. Edgar's going to have some competition when we see him again. Seeing Relm there, so happy and carefree, it's wonderful. It almost makes me want to…"

"Got it," Locke said abruptly, pulling the door open.

Strago and Relm came next to them in a heartbeat, and all four of them stared down into the inky darkness. None of them spoke for a few moments.

"Neat," said Relm finally, "let's see what's down there!"

With that, she hopped through the opening and dropped into the blackness.

"RELM!" yelled Strago, peering down, but after a few feet nothing was visible. "That little mongrel."

"Let's go," said Locke, who then hopped down after her. He tried to brace himself against the walls and did little more than scrape his palms on the way down. He could hear Terra and Strago coming down along with him, as well as feel the stones bouncing off of his head as they knocked them loose.

After a few moments, he hit empty air and fell the last few feet to the ground, grunting as he landed. Bright light seared his eyes, and Locke squeezed them tightly shut. He didn't dare move, and thus became the bottom of the pile that became him, Terra and Strago as the others fell down atop of him.

"Whoa," the three of them heard Relm mutter.

Slowly, their eyes became used to the light, and they were able to begin cracking their eyes open. Terra's first awareness was of a pair of clawed, three-toed feet just slightly ahead of Relm. The scaly, reptilian skin was a dark blue. She followed it up where it met a thickly muscled body, sprouting a pair of heavily muscled arms with hands tipped with razor-sharp talons. The head was composed of a long snout with sharp protruding teeth, and a pair of massive leathery wings were on the creature's back.

Terra somehow managed to bite back a scream, but she couldn't help but feel terrified as she scrambled to her feet.

Looking around, she and others could see that the one was not alone. Others stood nearby, of every shape and size imaginable, from Relm's size to some creatures that towered more than ten feet over Locke's head.

"Espers," breathed Terra.

"Gramps, take Relm and clear out of here!" yelled Locke, pushing the younger girl into her grandfather's arms. Strago took hold of the younger girl's shoulders and pulled her back towards the ceiling tunnel.

A figure blurred into motion in front of them and solidified into a figure that looked like a man, wearing a rough, white linen tunic and pants, soft walking boots and a brown conical hat. The figure's arm blurred and suddenly was holding a slightly curved, single-edge sword against Strago's throat.

Strago peered into the Esper's eyes and saw… nothing. There was no emotion, only a calm, focused concentration.

Relm glanced at the blade at her grandfather's throat and let out a terrified whimper.

"Raiden," said a voice, "put that away, there is no need for violence. Not yet."

The sword-bearing Esper nodded slightly, and with another blur vanished. When Strago turned around to the others, he could see the Esper, Raiden, standing amongst the others with his sword sheathed.

A pale-skinned Esper stepped forward from the crowd. It was mostly human in appearance, though sharp teeth protruded from its mouth and his hands bore talons. It wore no more than a loincloth, but it's hands were curled as if holding a weapon that wasn't there.

A soft blue light engulfed the Esper, and then another surrounded Terra.

"Grandpa?" cried Relm, "What's going on?"

Strago could only stare at Terra and the Esper, as the aura of magic in the chamber amplified and continued growing until it threatened to overwhelm his senses. He had never felt such power before, and even his studies of the ancient world could not convey the certainty that this was power that could reshape the world, and in fact had done so once already.

"The power," he murmured, "I have never felt anything like it. The intensity is unbelievable. There is even potential for more. It… it is terrifying…"

"Oh Ancients, don't say she's going to go ballistic again!" gasped Locke. He couldn't remember what had happened when Terra had transformed in Narshe, having been unconscious. But he was sure that if Terra exploded with magical power that there was no way the three mortals in this chamber would ever survive it.

But a moment later, the glow around both Terra and the Esper faded, though they continued to gaze at each other as though nothing had happened.

"You," started the Esper softly, "you are different, somehow. I feel the power of one whom I know flowing within you, speaking to me of trust and friendship.

"Yura," breathed Terra, the name feeling familiar. Only with the utterance of that name did she remember the visions she'd had in Zozo of her father and mother. Yura had been the gatekeeper of the Esper world, and a friend of her father's.

The Esper looked at her, suspicion creeping into his features. "How is it that you know my name? None of your people have crossed the threshold in almost twenty of your years."

Terra swallowed, then spoke loudly enough for the entire group of Espers to hear her. "My name is Terra Branford. I am the daughter of Maduin, and of his human wife, Madonna, who was permitted sanctuary within your world by Elder Tenteki. I was taken by the forces of the Empire when they invaded your realm eighteen years ago."

"She lies!" rasped one of the Espers, a hulking bear-like creature with spurs protruding from its fur at every joint. "We should destroy them so the others cannot find us!"

"No, Ursa," said Yura quietly, "she does not lie. I can feel Maduin within her. This girl's strength comes from our lost friend."

"I agree," said Raiden softly, blurring into existence next to Yura. "She has her mother's eyes."

"So you survived the raid by the humans," said Yura quietly, "but Maduin? Your mother?"

Terra's eyes water and her breathing hitched. She touched the emerald around her neck, and with her other hand drew out the Magicite shard that was all that was left of Maduin… of her father.

"They have joined the lifestream," she said softly.

Yura stepped forward, lightly touching the shard of Magicite. His eyes were sad and heavy. "Maduin," he murmured, "may the light of the Ancients illuminate your journeys ahead. May they light the way for us all."

"Espers," said Strago quietly, drawing the attention of Yura and the others, "I am Strago Magus of Thamasa. On behalf of our Council, I have been given permission to offer sanctuary to all of you."

Yura peered deeply at the old man. "You are a descendant of the Magi," he said wonderingly, and Strago nodded. "Do the Knights Arcane still exist?"

"Their blood has mingled with that of the survivors and others who have found their way to our retreat," replied Strago. "Our records are no longer certain of who is descended of the Knights, of the Magi, or of outsiders. I am sorry."

"What happened, Yura?" asked Terra, "How was it that so many of you came through the Gate so quickly?"

Yura looked abashed for a moment, staring at the ground. When he replied, it was in a low, solemn tone.

"After the invasion by the humans, we had sworn never to visit your world ever again. The remaining of the elder Espers made it law, a first for our people. But Maduin had been highly thought of, and we feared for Ramuh, Ifrit, Shiva, Stray, Shoat, Bismark, and the others. We few had gathered near the gate, to discuss plans of how to find and rescue those of us who had been taken. It was coincidence, or perhaps the work of fate, that enabled us to be close enough to the gate to hear Terra's plea."

Terra kept her face impassive, but inside her mind was churning. There were less than thirty Espers standing before her, possibly less than two dozen. It was hard to tell. And Yura had said that only these few had gathered. Less than thirty Espers, and they had leveled Vector and wreaked havoc with the Imperial Army. Terra was suddenly afraid of what might have happened if there had been more Espers near the gate.

"When we heard Terra, we thought that it was one of the kidnapped Espers who had managed to return home," continued Yura, "so we bonded our minds in the manner of our people, and saw the memories and thoughts Terra held. When the truth of the results of the invasion became known to us, we felt a rage like never before and bolted through without hesitation and without thought.

"But once we entered your world, we forgot the strength of our magic, and our powers raged uncontrolled alongside our hate and desire for vengeance. At the time, our anger burned so hot that we cared nothing for the destruction left in our wake. But we remember that we leveled one of your human cities, the one where are friends and compatriots had been kept. We had hoped to find some alive, and when we didn't…"

Yura left the rest of the statement hang in the air. He didn't need to say anything else. Terra and Locke had seen the devastated remains of Vector, the destruction of the Magitek Facility and the Iron Fortress.

"The same thing happened to me," commented Terra, "after coming face-to-face with an Esper frozen in the snow of Narshe, I lost control completely. I almost hurt my friends and flew across half the world before I was found by Ramuh. I was terrified of what I could do and of who I might hurt."

Yura nodded in agreement. "I remember very little of this world, I was only created a few months before we retreated into our refuge. But Bahamut and others have explained that in this world, we are closer to the known sources of magic, and thus our power is amplified. After a thousand years in our own world, we forgot the power of our magic."

"And your people no longer build structures meant to withstand us," commented another Esper, a bulky being in plate armor several inches thick.

"Despite Alexander's tactless words," said Yura, "we are deeply sorry for the pain and suffering your people have endured and will have to survive because of us."

"The past is past," Locke spoke up, drawing the attention of the Espers. "However, we came here with an offer. The Empire is the nation responsible for the invasion and for what happened to your people. It is their city of Vector that you attacked. They seem to want to talk to you about forging some kind of peace agreement. If you come with us, I think we can work something out."

One of the other Espers stepped forward. He looked like a nine-foot tall man wearing elegant, knightly armor.

"You think this Empire would forgive us so easily? For the harm we have done to it?" he asked.

Yura nodded. "Crusader has a valid point."

"Waiting for us is General Leo of the Empire," explained Terra, "and he is one of the kindest, most honorable men that I've met. I am certain that he would be eager to meet with you."

Yura turned to regard the other Espers, and all of them seemed to be having some kind of silent conversation. After several moments, he turned back to Terra and nodded.

"We are in agreement that we must work to make peace with your people," said Yura. "Our access back into our own world has been blocked, possibly forever. Our future is this world, now. We cannot allow ourselves to remain unchecked. We will learn to live in this world, with your people. We will refrain from using our powers, to avoid hurting any humans even by accident."

Terra saw the other Espers nodding their agreement. Smiling, she and the others joined the Espers as they walked out of the mountain caverns and out into the late morning sunlight.

The sun warmed Terra's face and her heart. They were close to a lasting peace. Soon, there would be peace between humans and Espers. The Empire would no longer be waging a war of conquest. The Returners would not be needed. For the first time since she awoke in Narshe, Terra allowed herself to dream of what she would do for the rest of her life.


	30. Chapter 28: Betrayal

First of all, I want to thank all of the loyal readers who've been waiting for this. It's hard to wright with a full time job and full time family. Sometimes the desire is there, but the ambition isn't. So I know I take a while, but I hope everyone is willing to wait however long it takes for me to update. I want people to know that I have the next chapter (Chapter 30, if you can believe it) already finished, but I'm not going to post it until I have the following chapter written. I'm hoping that will give me more incentive to write quicker.

I also want to thank everyone who's provided reviews. I do try to address some issues that are brought up in the reviews to make this a more enjoyable story for everyone to read. Special thanks go out to loyal reviewers Frozen Aura, ZefieK, and new reviewers like Axelkairi, Yuki, Leon and Deedlit. Oh, and Zefie, you asked about the whole Odin/Raiden bit, and this is just creative license. I always thought the thing in the Ancient Castle was a little odd (you're turning one Esper into another?), so I'm just making them separate Espers. I don't think it detracts from the story, I hope it just adds to it.

Thanks for reading my little rants, I'll do my best to continue working on this story and update more often. And now, as always… thank you, and enjoy.

* * *

Leo rejoined Celes, as she stared at the burnt-out husk of a large manor in the early morning light. He wasn't sure what to make of this village, Thamasa, since by all accounts the Crescent Isle had been uninhabited for ages.

His troops had looked ready to begin standard pacification procedures, so Leo had immediately ordered them to make camp on the outskirts of town. The last thing he needed was for his men to fall back on the same ideologies that had gotten the world into this mess in the first place.

Leo grimaced as he came up behind Celes. He would have felt much more comfortable working with his own soldiers, but they were still in the process of being recalled from the ruins of Doma. These were soldiers that he'd never served with, never had under his command. But Leo quelled his discomfort.

_An Imperial soldier is an Imperial soldier_, Leo reminded himself, _and will hold himself to the discipline and training that he has undergone_.

Satisfied, for the moment at least, Leo paused next to Celes, who was still engrossed in the burned building.

"I've stationed the troops outside of town," he told her, "I don't want any incidents during our visit. What are you staring at?"

Celes shook her head, breaking herself from her apparent reverie. "Nothing. The locals report that this fire happened three nights ago. A couple strangers helped save the children trapped inside. A young rogue and a girl with green hair. Yesterday they left town in the company of one of the village elders."

"Sounds like our wayward allies," replied Leo with a smirk. "Trust a couple of Returners to ingratiate themselves with the locals."

Celes looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "It seems to have worked for them in the north."

"Oh, I wasn't criticizing, Celes," said Leo, "merely stating a fact. In fact it's something I wish the legions would be able to do. Work with the local people rather than initiating pacification procedures. Sometimes friends can be more useful than servants."

Movement drew Leo's attention to the side, and he smiled as he saw Terra and Locke at the head of group entering the town. The… _beings_… with them were of every shape and size and description.

"Espers," he breathed.

Celes looked at Leo, then followed his gaze towards the group. Townsfolk hurried away, staring at the group as they came through the town, running for their homes and securely locking their doors. Even before Terra and Locke had reached them, Leo noticed that the area was completely deserted except for them.

Celes felt her heart swell with relief. The locals she'd spoken to hadn't known the fate of the green-haired girl or the young rogue who'd gone into the burning manor, and for a few minutes, she'd been certain that they were dead. Her heart had nearly broken at the though of Locke dead. She cared about him, more than she'd ever dared to imagine, and knew that his death would break her apart.

But as much as she wanted to run up to Locke and capture his lips with hers in a kiss that would leave him stunned, she knew this was not the time. There would be time for that later. She would _make_ time if she had to.

Locke gave the pair of them a mock salute as they arrived, followed with a flourish and a bow.

"General Leo, I welcome you to the humble town of Thamasa," said the rogue, smirking widely.

"I'm sure the locals will be happy to know that you have welcomed officials of the Empire within their home," joked Leo with a wide grin.

"We answer to no Empire," growled an old man.

Locke cleared his throat and put on a fake smile. "General Leo, please allow me to introduce you to Strago Magus, member of the village council of Thamasa. He helped us find the Espers."

The young rogue swept a hand behind him to indicate the beings arrayed behind him. He purposefully kept himself from looking at Celes, though he could feel her gaze on him.

Leo nodded as he looked over the eclectic group, then turned to Terra. "Lady Terra, have you been able to convince the Espers of our desire for peace?"

"She has," rumbled one of the Espers in the front.

Leo stepped forward. "I am Leo Cristophe, General of the Empire, Champion of the Iron Fortress, Justiciar of Vector. Whom do I have the honor of addressing?"

"I am called Yura," said the Esper, stepping forward. "We are those who attacked your city, looking for our lost comrades. We have committed an inexcusable atrocity against your people. Though this is neither the time nor the place to pray for forgiveness, we still…"

Leo waved a hand. "Say no more. It is the Empire that owes you and your people the apology. In our hunger for the power of the Espers, we sacrificed all morals, everything that would have allowed us to have peace and justice. We could have come so close re-enacting the War of the Magi."

He hung his head, shaking it slowly. Leo scowled. All he had worked for all his life had been a mistake. He'd been born just after the Urthmen War, raised in Vector under the rule of Emperor Gestahl. His whole life had been dedicated to the ideal of a united world, where justice and peace would reign. Master Duncan had been right, when they'd spoken in the Beldeth Mountains, when Duncan, Sabin and Vargas had rescued him and Gestahl. Peace without justice is merely tyranny.

Leo swore that he would dedicate himself to bring a different peace to the world. A true peace.

Yura looked at the human warrior, stretching his senses into the man before him. Strength radiated from the man; strength of purpose, strength of character. There was no deception. Yura turned to his comrades. Bahamut and Odin were the eldest of the assembled Espers, but Crusader had always been listened to for his wisdom and insistence on doing what was right. But no Esper was greater than another, they made their decisions by consensus, and each would have a chance to be heard, if they wished it.

One by one, his fellow Espers nodded.

Yura turned back to Leo, and then extended his hand, in the human manner.

"We will put this behind us," said Yura, "let a new age between human and Esper begin."

Leo and Yura began to speak in low voices, discussing options for the Espers to meet with Emperor Gestahl on some kind of neutral ground, and to have the Espers provide aid to the rebuilding of Vector.

Celes stepped away from them, moving closer to Terra and Locke. She exchanged a nod with Terra, who gave Celes a friendly smile, stepping away from Locke to talk with one of the Espers. The old man, Strago, was resting a hand on the shoulder of the young girl with him.

"This is so awesome!" gushed the girl, "Look at this gramps! We're a part of history! Everyone will say that the first friendly meeting with Espers was here in Thamasa, and that I helped bring the Espers here!"

Strago chuckled softly. If his granddaughter had it her way, the history books would focus on her and have a huge portrait of her on the front cover. He ruffled her hair affectionately.

"It is amazing," he agreed. "Just imagine, this history-making peace is being forged in our little town."

Locke blew out a breath and looked over at Terra, talking to the Esper that had been called Raiden. "Well, I guess that it looks like our job is finally over," he said to himself. "We found the Espers, and we're finally going to have freedom. At this point, I could certainly use some peace and…"

He stopped muttering to himself as he turned, and found Celes standing before him. He was about to be curt and walk away, when he realized that Celes didn't look angry or upset. Her blue eyes were softer, and she looked unsure of herself. Locke knew that he needed to make this right. He didn't want to go the rest of his life with this regret.

"Locke…" Celes began, but her voice trailed off. Her mouth opened and closed, trying to form the words, but nothing came out. She grimaced and glared at the ground, chest heaving as she took deep, angry breaths.

Instinctively, Locke reached out and took her hand in his. The cool skin of her hand felt wonderful, and he smiled a little as Celes' breathing hitched, and a little color came to her cheeks as she looked up at him.

"Celes," he began, "I'm…"

Celes brought her finger to his lips, silencing him. She smiled faintly, at the memory of when they first met, when Locke had silenced her in the same way. Locke's eyes searched for hers, every glance begging forgiveness. Celes smiled, and she could feel Locke's smile beneath her fingers.

No words were exchanged. None were needed.

* * *

Terra smiled as she watched Locke and Celes lose themselves in each other. It was about time her friends had a chance to heal.

"You are happy for them?" asked Raiden.

Terra turned to the Esper. Once again, she had to remind herself that's what Raiden was. He looked little different than a normal man. His face was slightly lined, and his rough clothes would not have looked out of place on a farmer. But there was power behind those eyes, just the same as for the rest.

"Of course I'm happy for them," she replied, somewhat confused.

"Is he not your mate?"

"My mate?" asked Terra in shock. "Locke? No. No, I mean… he's my friend. We're just friends. They were, umm… well… they had some problems. I'm glad they worked them out."

Raiden nodded silently, watching her. After a few moments he spoke again. "You are much like your mother."

"My mother?" repeated Terra with a gasp. "Did you know her?"

Raiden nodded once. "Slightly. I did not welcome her to our world, for I felt her presence would draw more humans to our sanctuary. I despised humans. I had been forced by my Magi to kill. I had killed so many… so many. Mortals died by the score upon my blade. When Elder Tenteki brought us to the sanctuary, I was relieved, for I feared that I had begun to enjoy killing your people. I had held that fear and hatred dormant within me for nearly a thousand years. But your mother… she was so much a woman of peace and tranquility. She helped me… helped me release the hate that I had held onto so tightly for all those centuries. I owed your mother a debt of honor, and one that I was unable to fulfill. Please honor me by accepting the debt I owed to her."

Terra smiled at the Esper and nodded. "It would be my honor, Raiden."

One by one, other Espers joined the two of them, sharing a moment to honor the memory of Maduin or her mother. Bahamut, a creature that looked like a dragon from storybooks, covered in gleaming platinum scales, shared a few stories with Terra of Maduin before the War of the Magi.

Terra smiled. This was wonderful. She had made friends among humans, which had strengthened her and begun to give her a sense of wholeness. Now, bonding with the Espers, she realized that this was filling what remained of the hole in her heart. Now, she felt, she could finally begin to heal.

* * *

Whirring and buzzing filled the air, and the ground began to quiver. Laughter and conversation died. Hands reached for weapons, and everyone tensed.

From all directions appeared suits of Magitek Armor, each with an Imperial soldier. Leo glared at them. Among them he certainly recognized several of the men he had left outside the town.

_What are they doing?_ he raged to himself.

The armored units halted at a respectable distance, training their weapons on the assembled group.

A high-pitched, cackling laugh broke the tense silence.

"How about a little Magitek mayhem?" laughed Kefka, as he wove his way through the Magitek soldiers. Dozens of soldiers followed behind him, weapons at the ready.

_He has a full company, at the minimum_, thought Celes. _But how? There were not that many soldiers on the _Forerunner, _where the did the rest of them come from?_

Leo stepped past Yura and the Returners, sword in hand. His eyes blazed with fury, his hand trembling with his righteous indignation. He made sure to stand between Kefka and the others. He would not allow this madman to destroy what they were doing! He. Would. NOT!

"Kefka!" he growled, "What do you think you are doing? I thought the Emperor had sentenced you to prison!"

Kefka laughed. He looked at Leo as though his fellow general had spoken of the most absurd idea in history. When his laughter died away, Kefka sniffed at Leo, then turned his gaze on the Espers beyond.

"Emperor Gestahl's own orders!" he snickered, enjoying the look on the faces of Celes and the Returners at this new betrayal. This was so much fun! "I've been ordered to bring the Magicite remains of these beasts to his excellency! Just look at this, Leo. A veritable Magicite motherload! With these creatures dead and under our control, the rest of the world will shatter like glass before our might!"

One of the Espers; hulking, bear-like Ursa roared in rage. "I told you the humans could not be trusted! We will destroy them!"

Ursa roared again and lunged forward, falling to all four limbs. Each claw ripped chunks from the soil, leaving a trail of debris behind him. Locke was forced to leap to one side as the massive Esper barreled past him. Leo stepped to the side as he saw the Esper would trample him if he stayed still.

Yura raced forward, one arm outstretched. "NO! Ursa, don't!"

Kefka laughed, and a black cloud formed between his hands. In the blink of an eye, two stars twinkling with a black, unearthly light shot from the madman, striking the two Espers. They screamed as their forms flickered once and vanished, accompanied by a roar and a golden flash. Two shards of magicite fell to the ground.

"Yura!" screamed Terra. She turned to the others. "Get out of here! Now!"

Espers blurred and vanished and leapt for the sky. Kefka turned his hands towards the sky… until he was tackled by Leo and both men crashed to the ground.

The Magitek units began firing blasts of energy into the sky, to the handful of Espers they could see. One unit was engulfed in flames from the sky, and two more exploded without any apparent cause. Another simply winked out of existence. Soldiers gripped their weapons and kept them aimed at the Returners. None approached the two generals. Kefka had thrown Leo off him, both men coming to their feet with weapons in hand.

"Burn this pitiful little hamlet to the ground!" screamed Kefka.

"Kefka, no!" roared Leo. "You cannot _do_ this!"

"Shut up you fool!" Kefka screamed back.

Kefka's hands rose into the air, and he clapped them together once and then turned his palms to face the heroes. An ear-piercing whine cut through the noise of the Magitek troops, burrowing its way into the minds of Leo and the Returners like Edgar's drill. All of them screamed and covered their ears, but it did nothing to block out that sound.

"What evil magic is this?" cried Terra, straining to hear her own voice.

Strago collapsed to his knees. "Fiend!" he spat, "This fell magic was never meant for mortals to use! This dark magic… I can't… my body…"

The old mage collapsed to the ground, unable to fight off the dark magic that had laid the others low.

Relm did her best to crawl towards her grandfather, tears streaming down her face as the magic continued to ravage her.

"Grandpa…" she managed to whimper, then fell to the ground beside him.

Locke, and then Leo followed, falling unconscious where they stood. Terra and Celes managed to hold out a few moments longer, but then they too could no longer resist Kefka's fell powers and fell bonelessly to the ground.

Kefka lowered his arms and laughed hysterically, watching as people fled from their homes as Magitek units smashed buildings to splinters or split them apart with blasts of fire and lightning.

_Burn, burn! Burn it all! Ravage these maggots! Make them squirm! Make them grovel! Let them plead! They will die! All will die! I will kill them all!_

He continued to laugh as he bent to scoop up the two shards of magicite. They pulsed in his palm, almost as though the crystals were alive in their own way. Kefka dropped the shards into an inner pocket and watched the carnage.

"So rich," he murmured with a smile, and turned his gaze to his unconscious foes, "so delicious. The mighty Returners and the great General Leo are finally about to meet their ends."

Kefka laughed again. He came upon Celes and knelt down, grabbing a fistful of her blond hair and yanking it up so that he could see her face.

"Little Celes Chere," he snarled, "you were never anything more than a cold, lying, filthy bitch! You thought you were better than me. Thought you be possibly be anything outside of the Empire! You are nothing! A maggot!" Kefka sneered, and traced one finger along her jawline, across her cheek and lips. "If I had more time, I'd make a trophy out of you. Put you on display for everyone to see your fall. Your suffering would be eternal."

Kefka snickered as he looked over at the Returner in the bandanna. "And you, punk! You're lower than the dirt you're choking on. Where is your precious King Figaro? Where is your broken knight of Doma? Where your useless heir of Ironhand?" Kefka looked back to Celes, her head still held tight in his grasp. "Did you think he could save you, pretty little Celes? Did you think this _worm_ could give you a life? Did you think he could _save_ you from the Empire?"

Kefka laughed again, pushing Celes' face roughly into the ground. He spit on Locke as he rose to his feet. Looking at the old man and the little girl, he sneered. He didn't know them and didn't care who they were. Dragged into the Returners' fold, he was only sorry that they would have so little time to suffer.

He walked over to Terra, putting a foot on her head and pressing.

"Little Terra," he snickered, "did you think you could be free? No matter how far you ran, no matter how fast you flew, you could never escape me! I own you! I have owned you for years, and I will continue to own you! Your life is mine! Your power is mine! Do you understand this? Do you? DO YOU? Revolting against me? How pitiful. Did you ever truly think you could actually win? Mwa hahahaha!"

Kefka drew his foot back and kicked the side of Terra's head, knocking her onto her back. Her face was drawn and tight, revealing her pain even though she was unconscious.

Stepping away from the half-Esper bitch, Kefka's eyes fell on General Leo, and his cruel smile widened.

"Leo. Leo, Leo, Leo, Leo, Leo," Kefka muttered as he circled the unconscious man. "Let us not even _start_ on your idiocy. Your blind faith to Gestahl. Ha! You were the perfect pawn, and you'll never even get a chance to learn your true purpose. The one good face of the Empire. The one example that Gestahl needed to convince everyone that his empire was a force of good and right. Ha! Good and right!"

Kefka devolved into high-pitched giggling, then turned to watch the destruction of Thamasa. This was a wonderful day.

* * *

Leo's first thought was that he hurt. Every bone, every muscle, every nerve seemed to hurt. His eyes fluttered open, and he winced at the bright light. It was far too bright and… too warm. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the light, then another for things to come into focus.

Thamasa was in flames.

_That explains the light and the heat_, thought Leo.

As his eyes came into focus, he could make out Kefka laughing and cavorting about, reveling in the chaos and destruction. Leo's very soul shivered. Kefka was too powerful, the magic he had at his command was too dangerous.

_He's too powerful. I can't take him alone. I would need an army. I can't…_

His hand closed around the grip of his sword.

Everything crystallized in that instant. All fears were washed from Leo's mind, all doubts were wiped clean. He breathed deeply.

_One of these days, young man, you will be forced to make a choice between what is easy… and what is right_.

Those had been Master Duncan's words, as Leo lay on a sickbed in the Beldeth Mountains. Leo knew the easy thing would be to pretend to still be affected by the spell… or perhaps to sneak off and try to bring the Returners with him to safety. The right thing was to try and stop Kefka.

Leo closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. He breathed in his whole life; every lesson on the sword, every trick he'd ever used, every soldier he'd ever commanded, every life he'd taken.

And then he breathed it all out.

Opening his eyes, Leo rose to his feet, and prepared for the last battle he would ever enter. One way or another, Leo knew that after today, he would never fight again.

* * *

Kefka turned around to find Leo rising to his feet in a slow, graceful manner, and the madman smiled, rubbing his hands together, tongue flicking out like a snake's, tasting the air.

_Well well, the fool has some spunk left in him after all_, thought Kefka. _Delicious_.

Kefka drew his own sword and stepped forward until the two men stood half a dozen paces apart.

"Kefka Palazzo," intoned Leo, raising his sword to point at Kefka's throat, "your behavior has been dishonorable. You have been a disgrace to the Empire and to all mankind for all the years that I have known you. Today, however, you have gone too far. I cannot and _will_ not allow these atrocities to continue!"

Kefka snickered. "Come then, pretty pawn. Let's see how good you really are."

Both men flew towards the other, their blades coming together in a loud ring. Leo's sword spun in his hand, and he launched a furious assault upon Kefka. His blade flashed, reflecting the afternoon sun, looking like a blade of burning sunlight. Kefka's amused look began to fade into one of concentration.

Leo had never before been bested in combat. Kefka's strength and speed and powers had been augmented by Magitek procedures, but Leo himself was a living weapon. He drew upon the energy of battle, the energy of war. Just being next to him, Kefka could feel the energy, sapping strength from his limbs, turning aside his blows, rattling his arms with each block and parry.

Leo slammed a horizontal cut into Kefka's instinctive block, but Leo kept moving. Kefka threw his feet behind him, trying to regain his balance, as Leo stepped around with a backwards slice. Kefka barely managed to parry the blow, but the noble general spun back to the left, sword coming down like a bolt of lightning. Kefka screamed as the tip of the blade ripped through his shirt and mail and left a long streak of red blood across his chest.

Still Leo continued, as unstoppable and unrelenting as an avalanche.

Kefka's face shifted from concentration… to fear.

Leo's blade continued in its deadly masterpiece, strikes finding their way around and past Kefka's defenses, tearing flesh and drawing blood. Leo took another spin, knocking Kefka's sword the side, then continued his turn, spinning his blade into a reverse grip and thrusting it into Kefka's chest.

Everything stopped.

Kefka's eyes lowered to stare at the blade protruding from his upper chest, straight through the space his heart would occupy. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet Leo's glare.

Kefka's face shifted from fear… to astonishment.

"It ends here," Leo growled softly. "It ends now."

He wrenched his sword from Kefka's chest and the madman collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, eyes rolling back in his head.

Leo's body relaxed and his shoulders slumped. He had expended all of his strength. He had almost nothing left, hardly having even the strength to stand. He shuffled over towards Terra, awkwardly falling to his knees as one hand gently shook her shoulder.

"Lady Terra?" he said softly.

A high-pitched, shrieking giggle floated on the wind behind him.

Leo spun around, sword at the ready. But there was no one there. He glanced back to Kefka's body… gone! The body was gone. There was no blood staining the ground, no lifeless body laying motionless. A glance at his blade showed no blood staining the flawless steel.

But the aura of menace that Leo had always felt around Kefka was still present. Its evil chill did its best to burrow under his skin, worm its way into his soul. Leo stepped around carefully, sword at the ready. This was wrong, it was all wrong. Leo couldn't rely on his senses; he wasn't sure at the moment what was real.

"Leo," a voice sing-songed.

Leo spun around, searching for the source of the voice. It was Kefka's voice, he knew that for certain. No one else could make even a simply name seem to be a curse.

"Always the consummate soldier, aren't you Leo?" mocked Kefka's voice. It seemed to float on the area, coming from all directions at once. Leo didn't know how to track down the madman.

"Where are you, Kefka?" demanded Leo in a low voice. "Show yourself, coward!"

Fog began to seep into the area, a low, clinging cloud that slithered forward in a serpentine manner. In less than a minute, the bodies of the Returners were completely concealed, and the fog crawled its way up the buildings that still stood, leaving Leo feeling dizzy and disoriented, hardly knowing what way was up. Only the sun still shining above gave him any sort of reality.

The fog before him suddenly swirled and rose, condensing into a shape, then puffed away, revealing Emperor Gestahl.

Leo gasped, falling to his knee, sword thrust into the ground. Leo was sure that with Gestahl here, he would get answers, and could persuade his majesty to make true peace and rid himself of Kefka.

"My liege," said Leo respectfully, "Kefka has violated your orders. He has escaped prison, brought with him soldiers and is destroying the peace you are trying to make with the Espers. Please, sire, he must be stopped or he will lead the whole world into ruin!"

Pity filled Gestahl's face. "Leo… you were always my most trusted general. Your unswerving faith was something I could always count on. You were truly the best of us all. I am sorry that I was forced to deceive you."

Leo's head shot up, and his eyes bored into Gestahl's.

_Deceived?_

"My whole life, my destiny has been to gather the power of the Espers," said Gestahl calmly, "and I made sure that your purpose was to assist me in gaining this power. I needed you. Needed you to be the face of justice to the rest of the world. Without you, no one would have believed the Empire would be just and benevolent. You gave us legitimacy. Please forgive the deception, my friend."

Leo stared at Gestahl in horror. His whole life hadn't been a mistake. It had been a lie. Everything he'd ever believed in, everything he'd ever fought for. The blood of thousands of innocent men, both his own soldiers and those he'd fought against. They had all died for a lie. He was numb, frozen in shock at this betrayal. His lips parted slowly, and only one word escaped.

"No," he whispered.

Kefka's voice squealed in delight, somewhere around him. "Very good, my lord Emperor! Now we just have to track these Espers down and collect their magicite remains!"

"My liege," pleaded Leo, "what have been fighting for all these years? Was it not for a greater good? To unite the world under one people? With magic once more in the hands of the people, to make life easier? We were to use healing magic to cure the sick, the wounded and the dying. Machines could have been powered by nothing more than resting our hands against them! No more dangerous or hard labor! No more of desecrating the world with the dirt and filth from our machines!"

Gestahl folded his arms across his chest, and a cruel smirk came to his face. "You think you really killed me?" asked the Emperor, in a high-pitched, maniacal voice, "A shadow form conjured specially for you, Leo! How do you like my Gestahl? A perfect representation, don't you think?"

Gestahl's form shimmered and fell away, revealing Kefka standing before Leo. The valiant general began to rise, but Kefka drove a knee into Leo's chin, knocking him backwards and flat onto his back. Leo grunted; it felt like Kefka had broken his jaw.

"I will _kill_ you, Kefka!" Leo grated past the pain.

Kefka sneered, stepping towards the prone man, grabbing a hold of Leo's collar and lifting him partly off the ground. "Such a violent little brute. What would your precious soldiers think of you know? So weak. So helpless. Gestahl wanted you brought into the fold, but told me not to let you disrupt our plans. Unfortunately, your 'liege' will be told that I simply had to exterminate a traitor. Hee hehehehe!"

Leo tried to take one more swing at Kefka, but before he could, a slim blade appeared from Kefka's sleeve, and he thrust the razor-sharp steel through Leo's throat.

Leo's blow died on its way to its intended target. He couldn't talk. He couldn't breathe. His mouth opened and closed, but he couldn't speak through the blood beginning to bubble. His eyes softened, his body went slack. The sword fell from his hand, landing with a heavy thud.

Laughing, Kefka tore the knife from Leo's throat and began to stab him again, and again, and again, and again. Blood flowed freely from multiple wounds in Leo's chest, staining his clothes almost black. When all life finally left Leo's eyes, Kefka snarled and threw the lifeless body to the ground.

Kefka let out a loud, cackling laugh. The few soldiers close enough to hear him shuddered in fear. He glanced at the unconscious bodies of the Returners. There would be plenty of time later, after they had a chance to wallow in fear and misery and pain. Self-loathing and recriminations would run rampant. They would turn their anger on each other and destroy their relationships. It would be beautiful.

He turned around and strode out of the town. He glanced at the captain of the soldiers.

"Gather your men," he ordered, "we regroup with the Emperor's forces. We leave now!"

The Imperials gathered quickly and marched out of the ruined town, heading back towards their landing point. Several hours later, they came into view of the Emperor's ship, and he was standing there, waiting for them.

Gestahl's face was firm and remorseless as he nodded upon Kefka's arrival. "Where is Leo?" he asked.

Kefka smiled cruelly. "He insisted on disrupting our plans. He threw his lot in with the Returners. His death was a regrettable necessity."

Gestahl nodded. "Regrettable. Our agents say that our intelligence was correct. The Espers have already returned to the Sealed Gate. The statues must be there."

"Their power will finally be in our hands," agreed Kefka, then he turned to the soldiers. _Worthless lackeys_. "Captains! Assemble the air groups! The Emperor and I need immediate transport to the Sealed Gate! Prepare to depart at maximum speed! Our destiny is nearly fulfilled!"

* * *

From a porthole in Gestahl's command ship, a figure in a borrowed Imperial uniform watched the Emperor and his remaining general with a pair of cold gray eyes. No one took notice of him, nor of the black and brown creature that hid, still and silent, beneath a pair of rucksacks.

The figure watched the two men board the ship, and then helped it get ready for take-off. He was not sure what plots were being woven, but he intended to have an active hand in the course of the future this time. He was tired of being a pawn.

* * *

The Espers watched as Starlet hovered in the air above the chasm. Her blue robes floated in the air about her, born aloft on the winds of magic that swirled here. As they watched, her shoulders drooped and she slowly glided back to the ledge where the others waited.

"It is of no use," she said, "I am unable to contact our brethren on the far side of the Gate. They may be too far, or our powers may be blocked."

"We do not have much time," growled Fenrir, his golden wolf-eyes watching the tunnels behind them.

"We could move those boulders ourselves," commented Crusader. "We have the strength of our magic to do it in enough time. We could warn the others."

"Our escape broke the seal that Tenteki had forged," replied Odin. "If we open the Gate, then the humans will be able to follow us through. With the one who can kill us, it would be a slaughter of our people."

Alexander smashed the ground with a fist, causing it to crack and buckle beneath the blow. "We are Espers, and they are not the Magi! This one mortal will fall before us! We fled in fear and surprise before. We will be ready, this time"

"Think, old friend," said Raiden, "he would not be so confident as to face us unless he is well-protected against our powers. If we unblock the Gate, we provide access to our sanctuary for them."

"We cannot allow these mortals access to our sanctuary," said Seraphim resolutely, her feathered white wings flapping absently behind her. "We must make our stand here."

Odin scowled, then turned to Bahamut. The dragon Esper met Odin's eyes.

"You are the Eldest here," Odin said firmly, "I will support your choice."

Bahamut closed his eyes wearily. He had been the Eldest since Tenteki joined the lifestream after sealing the Gate.

_I am so sorry, old friend_, thought Bahamut, _I have not your wisdom. I wish you were here to help guide us._

His scaled head rose, and looked over his brethren, meeting their gazes one by one.

"These humans are too dangerous," he said finally, "and if we clear the Gate and return to the sanctuary, then we risk endangering the rest of our brethren." He sighed heavily. "It is time to finish what Tenteki started. We must destroy the Gate."

"We will be sealing the others in the sanctuary forever," commented Raiden.

"We will be protecting them forever," countered Bahamut. "This is the whole reason the sanctuary was created in the first place. To protect our people. We must not give the humans a chance to harm the rest of our people. Yura and Ursa have already fallen, leaving only their magicite. How many of you think our fate will be any different?"

"You believe it is inevitable that we will join the lifestream?" asked Odin.

Bahamut looked at him sadly. "With the power these mortals wield, do you doubt it?"

Odin had no response.

"We have harmed the humans, and it is time to ensure that we do everything we can to prevent these men from harming any more," continued Bahamut. "They will bring their armies to destroy us. They will take our magicite. But we shall protect those whom we still care about. You all know as well as I do what we are feeling. The power of the last of the Magi rests in the mountain above us. Though the Magi knew not where we had gone, they were drawn to this place for their sanctuary, just as we were drawn to it. I will do all I can to prevent these mortals from taking the power of our people, and the last of the world's magic. I will make my final stand here."

The other Espers shifted uncomfortably. Until today, none had been forced to face the possibility of their own demise.

Raiden stepped forward.

"I will make my final stand here," he agreed.

Alexander came forward. "I will make my final stand here."

Crusader, Starlet, Phoenix, Odin and all the rest spoke in unison.

"I will make my final stand here."

As one, the Espers turned to the Gate, buried beneath tons of shattered rock. For mortals, it would take a century to free the Gate. The Espers knew they could do it in a few hours. But they all knew they had made their choice. They would face their fate with the dignity the Magi had given to them.

Together, they joined their powers. Fire and ice, thunder and lightning, life and death, power of the heavens, power of the earth, power of the water and the sky. Of movement and stillness. Of courage and fear.

All joined as one power, one unified purpose. Only once before in history had the powers of the Espers been joined in such a fashion. That time, it had formed the Gate and the sanctuary world beyond it. Today it would destroy that Gate, and sever the connection to the sanctuary world.

The power began to build and grow, the doors of the Gate began to shine through the tons of rock that concealed them. The ancient runes that Tenteki and the other elders had inscribed glowed a bright, fiery red. The energy that the Espers had brought to bear began to gather in the midst of the chasm; a pure, shining white light that grew brighter and brighter with each passing second.

Viewed from afar, the entire mountain above the Gate shone like a second sun.

In the blink of an eye, the light flashed once more and all returned immediately to normal. Beneath the tons of fallen rock, the great doors of the Gate shattered, hurling rocks into the chasm and into the abyss below, revealing parts of the cracked mithril and platinum doors.

The Espers gazed at the doors with silence and reverence. All knew what they had just done. But they knew their sacrifice would save the rest.

"It is done," said Bahamut solemnly.

As if his words were a signal, the Espers began to separate and prepare themselves for battle.

"Alexander and Crusader will guard the entrance to the cave," ordered Odin, donning his golden horned helm. "Starlet, Seraphim will remain within…"

"We will not," argued Starlet.

"We are not cowards or weaklings to kept within safety," agreed Seraphim.

"You are not warriors," countered Odin. "You have the magic of life and healing."

"And the magic of death and entropy," said Starlet. "We may not slay as many as Alexander or you or Raiden, but we will do our part."

Odin nodded, looking from one to the next. "Starlet, Seraphim and Phoenix will focus on their transport, either by air or sea. Raiden, Fenrir and myself will move against their ground forces. The rest of you have all fought before. We must prevent a new Great War. This world's fate is once again within our hands."

"Our final stand," commented Raiden.

"Our final stand," agreed the others.

* * *

Hundreds of forms both large and small flew towards the island of the Sealed Gate. The world knew of only one airship, the _Blackjack_, but the greatest military secret the Empire had kept was the creation of an air force; Magitek machines powered by now-dead Espers.

Large troop transports carried up to 250 Imperial soldiers in each, and the smaller, two-man craft used Magitek power for weapon systems.

Gestahl and Kefka watched from the bridge of their ship. From the island, came a flash of light.

"Now it begins," said Gestahl softly, "now it ends."

* * *

The power of the Espers was undeniable. Phoenix led the others against the flying machines of the Empire, hurling fire and lightning of unimaginable power. Their focus was the transports, knowing that for every one they destroyed, would be fewer soldiers to land on the ground.

The sky split with thunderous infernos, while other airships fell from the sky, their pilots dying for no apparent cause. The life-giving energies of Starlet, Seraphim and others turned to their opposite purpose.

But the Espers were outnumbered, and the Empire had the power of Magitek. Lances of energy formed of fire and ice and lightning were hurled from the Imperial airships, striking the Espers with portions of their own power. And from one transport ship, stars of dark light hurtled through air, striking Espers with unerring accuracy.

The flash of light would always be accompanied by a scream, and the release of the Esper's power. A blue diamond shattered when the dark star struck Starlet, and a single white feather was all that was left of Seraphim. Their magicite fell from the sky like stones.

"Withdraw to the island!" came Phoenix's screeched order. "Withdraw!"

The survivors heeded the order, but Phoenix eyed the ship from which came the dark stars of death. Glaring, the Esper of the burning fire of life curved into a tight turn, accelerating to higher speed than Phoenix ever had achieved before. The Esper became a burning line of golden fire, streaking across the sky for the fiend who possessed the power to slay Espers.

Phoenix aimed for the transport, intending to strike it headlong and send it, and all its occupants crashing to the ground a thousand feet below.

"How about a little hocus-pocus, little candle!" cackled a voice, then a star of shining darkness struck Phoenix. The Esper screeched and expanded into a ball of fire, scorching the side of the airship. The shard of magicite bounced against the hull and fell towards the ground.

A high-pitched, cackling laugh erupted from the deck of the Magitek airship. "You die, and you die. I can kill you… and you… and you. All of you charged with power. Now you're mine. Pretty Espers. Dead Espers. Join my collection! Maybe you'll see a few familiar faces!"

The madman continued to cackle madly as the remaining transport ships landed on the ground and began to disperse Imperial soldiers by the hundreds.

A blur moved among one unit, and twenty-five soldiers died. Their chests had been sliced open and heads severed. A man in rough linen clothes and a conical hat stood among them, a slightly curved, single-edged sword in his hand, blood dripping from the blade. Raiden blurred again, ten men dying as he passed.

A giant of a man in silver and gold armor, riding a white horse with black tiger stripes dove into the heart of the Imperial ranks. His massive sword swung, and with each swing a half-dozen men died. Odin roared his fury, and the heavens responded. Boulders fell from the sky, trailing fire in their wake, crushing hundreds of soldiers.

A wolf twice the size of a man flitted in and out of the battle, tearing apart soldiers with foot-long fangs. A hundred soldiers fell upon Fenrir, when suddenly the lupine Esper was surrounded by six images of himself, and all seven forms fell upon the soldiers, tearing them apart.

Those few soldiers who made it past the three warrior Espers had to contend with those Espers still remaining from the air assault. After that, they had to face Crusader, his golden armor gleaming in the sunlight, his silver sword shining with holy power. Blows crushed men and units of Magitek armor.

Behind Crusader stood fearsome Alexander, as stoic and unmovable as a mountain, hurling blasts of energy at any who dared approach. A hundred soldiers died with each blast of energy.

But among the dead soldiers, dark stars hurtled across the battlefield. One struck Fenrir, and suddenly all the images spun in a circle around where he'd stood, and they vanished with a scream.

His magicite fell to the ground.

Another star pierced Odin, and he exploded in gold and silver flames, taking another hundred soldiers to their deaths with him.

"Fall back to the caves!" yelled Raiden. He blurred away from the hundred soldiers he'd just killed. He reappeared closer to the mad killer. Raiden knew he had little hope of destroying this mortal. He'd seen spells of his fellow Espers bounce off the human with little effect. Though his sword itself was not of magic, Raiden had little doubt he'd find his own powers useless against the slayer. But perhaps he could give the others time enough to finish off the soldiers and unite against him.

Raiden slew another hundred soldiers in the span of another few seconds. Thousands of humans lay dead all around them. The forest that had grown on either side of the cave had been leveled; brought to ruin by spell and blade. He wanted to weep at the havoc that he and his brethren had wreaked. But now was not the time for such sentiments. Raiden saw his foe, and closed his eyes. He drew in a breath, savoring his last moments.

"I have lived my life with honor," he breathed gently. "I go now into the lifestream with no regrets. I am sorry, Terra, that I could not fulfill my vow to you. Perhaps in death I shall serve you better."

He blurred away again, appearing behind the killer. He struck with his blade in a blow that would have severed the head of any other being in the world.

But the painted madman spun and dove away, drawing his own sword as he did so. Raiden heard the men yell the killer's name, Kefka, but that mattered little now. Raiden followed up his attack, striking again and again. He moved as fast as he ever had, used every skill with the sword he'd been given, every tricked he'd ever figured out.

To the onlookers, it appeared that the Esper was attacking with a hundred blades all at once.

Not one blow struck Kefka.

Raiden growled deep in his throat. He'd known this would happen, but had still harbored some hope otherwise. He realized the secret, and yelled so that Crusader and Alexander would hear him.

"He is some kind of Nullifier!" he yelled, accelerating his attacks. He might not be able to harm this creature, but he could provide a distraction. "Do not attack him, attack all that is around him!"

A dark light shone in Kefka's palm as he thrust his hand forward.

Raiden smiled.

And blurred out of existence, leaving only his soul of magicite.

* * *

It was a slaughter.

Espers stood their ground and laid low more than five thousand Imperial soldiers.

In turn, the Espers were struck down by those stars of dark light.

Gestahl came up behind Kefka, as the final Esper's magicite dropped to the ground. The two armored giants had refused to move. They had done what they could to distract Kefka, but in their end their dedication had been their own downfall. Kefka's stars of death ended the existence of both Espers.

"Well done," said the Emperor, looking over the island. Five thousand men lay dead around him; representing the majority of the Empire's remaining military. There were no more soldiers left. But then again, there were no more Espers to stand in the way of his power.

"Well done, indeed," commented Gestahl, a glimmer of dark amusement in his eyes. "Come, lad. You've proven your worth to me a dozen times over today. I've always known you'd be the one standing at my side through all of this. Come. The Gate awaits us, and with it, the magicite of all the Espers who have ever lived."

Kefka giggled madly and strode forward, into the darkness of the cave. He waved a hand, and the lava pools cooled and crusted over immediately. He and Gestahl walked through without pause. Together, they strode to the ledge facing the Gate.

A final Esper rested his form on the ledge. It was a great dragon, covered in gleaming platinum scales. Gestahl had heard enough stories of the Espers to identify this one as Bahamut. One of the most powerful of the Espers. His magicite would be wonderful to have.

Yet Bahamut merely rested there, looking at the two men with knowledge accumulated over the course of more than two thousand years.

"You shall pass no further, Gestahl of Vector," intoned the Esper.

Kefka cackled. "You think not? You think we have to stay here? Here is dirty. Here is weak. Beyond is power. Great power. _Our_ power."

"Beyond… is nothing," said Bahamut simply.

Gestahl's eyes narrowed, and he rested a hand on Kefka's arm, halting him for a brief moment. Gestahl searched Bahamut's eyes, finding the Esper returning his look with a calm gaze. He looked away from those golden eyes, to the Gate beyond the chasm. Gestahl smiled as he gazed upon the doors of mithril and platinum, partially covered by the fallen rocks. He had long gazed at those doors in years past, contemplating how to enter once again. Now he was just one step away.

His eyes narrowed. Something was not right.

"Now you see," said Bahamut with a nod.

The great doors were broken. Now that he was looking, Gestahl could see it clearly. He could even see the rocks beyond the doors, and knew that there would be no tunnel into the land that the Espers had created.

"What have you done?" roared Gestahl.

Bahamut smiled, his face peaceful and content. "We have saved our people from your crimes until the end of magic itself. You will gain no more from us other than what you have stolen today. Our brethren remain safe, and the last power that resides in this place of the Ancients and of the Magi who served them will never be yours to control."

"You fool!" spat Gestahl, "Do you understand the power that you've locked away beyond our world?"

"I do," replied Bahamut serenely, "and it is the best thing I have ever done with my life."

Gestahl fumed, though he kept his face neutral on the fact that the Esper had let slip that the statues resided here on this very island. With Kefka to act as his trained hound, they would find the statues, and then they would have all the power that was still concentrated in the world.

Kefka tired of this game, and formed the dark, energy killing star in his hand and threw it forward.

It hurtled through empty air.

Both men looked up to see Bahamut hovering in the air, wing beating a slow, steady rhythm.

"Know this Gestahl. Know this Kefka," said Bahamut, his voice an octave lower, rumbling with power and authority. "I have seen your fates, and know what this world has in store for you."

"Have you seen us with power? Have you seen the gods we will be?" asked Kefka gleefully.

"Death awaits you both," Bahamut said solemnly. "Already you have been fated by the Ancients to die."

"Die? Die? Gods don't die!" raged Kefka, "Lying filth! Wretched Esper! To the depths of all three hells with you! Go to your precious lifestream!"

Bahamut let out a roar such that neither human had heard before, and a stream of silver and blue energy erupted from the dragon Esper's mouth… towards the ceiling. The blast of force and energy cracked the hard stone ceiling, bringing chunks to begin raining down.

Gestahl grabbed Kefka by the sleeve and began pulling him out and away from the collapsing stone. But not before Kefka fired one final dark star, and the roar of an Esper's power faded in a flash of blue and platinum light. The two men steadied themselves as the shaking of the ground slowed and halted. They were alive, and the statues of power resided on this island.


	31. Chapter 29: The Day of Ruin

Yes, I am still alive. Yes, I am still writing. And yes, to everyone who's waited over a year for an update… I am sorry.

I could name any number of excuses; wife, kids, new job, social life, horrible things called MMORPG's (I never imagined how much of your life they suck up until I started playing). But I guess I was just being lazy. It wasn't until I got a message from Brendan Aurabolt a few weeks ago that I realized just how bad I'd been. So Brendan… thanks. I'm going to do my best not to let the story go as long as I have been. Hopefully I haven't lost too many fans.

As to a couple of reviewers who had not liked my use of "burn" and "flame" and so forth for curses, I will admit to taking inspiration from the Wheel of Time. As adults, I figured the characters would be more willing to curse at bad situations, and I didn't want to use our curses. I think you can easily interpret their meanings based on what the character is saying, but I apologize if you think it detracts from the story.

I will try and update again this month (Sept 2012) with the first chapter of the World of Ruin. For now, thank you and enjoy.

* * *

She gently came back to consciousness to someone calling her name and shaking her shoulder. Terra tried to blink. Her eyes felt so heavy… so very heavy. It would be only too easy to slip back to sleep. But she tried to concentrate on the voice calling her name, tried to blink her eyes to focus.

She was able to focus enough to see blue and gold, and the voice became more urgent.

"Come on, Terra," said the voice. A man's voice. "Let's go sweetheart, can't have you sleeping in all day."

Slowly, the world began to sort itself out. Finally, the person before her resolved into a single, definite face.

"Edgar?" she said weakly.

The Figaran king blew out a breath, closing his eyes and nodding slightly. He reopened his eyes and looked at her.

"Thank the Ancients," he said softly, "how are you, sweetheart? You have enough strength to sit up?"

Terra nodded weakly and gently held out a hand. Edgar knelt down next to her and helped pull her upright. Terra shook her head as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed her, then a white form appeared before her. It took another minute for the form to focus into Mog.

"Kupo!" cried the Moogle, "Thought you dead, kupo! Praise Ancients!"

Terra allowed herself to look around. Cyan was patting Locke on the back, the young rogue's chest was still heaving, bent over on his hands and knees. Setzer had helped Celes into a sitting position as well, and to the other side Terra could see Gau gently shaking Strago and Relm back into consciousness.

But where was…

Sabin knelt a little distance away, closer to the wrecked remnants of Thamasa. He was kneeling over a body, but he was too far away for Terra to see his face. She turned back to Edgar, looking into his face as she tried to gather her strength.

"What happened, Edgar?" she asked, fearful of the answer, "What is going on?"

Edgar's handsome face was sad and depressed. "We've been betrayed. All of us have been tricked. Come on. Do you think you can stand?"

"How long have we been out?" she asked, pressing her hands against the ground, trying to gather the strength to lurch to her feet.

"Not sure, probably not more than two or three hours, it's almost noon," replied Edgar.

Terra pressed her feet against the ground. Her knees shook, but not as badly as she had feared. Looking over, she could see Locke and Celes getting to their feet. Strago and Relm were sitting up now, at least. Looking back at Edgar, she nodded, and pushed with her feet as he pulled Terra to her feet. She wobbled for a moment, but her legs steadied beneath her.

She looked back over to Sabin, and saw who it was he knelt beside.

"No!" she heard herself cry, then Terra wrenched herself out of Edgar's grip and raced over. She dropped back to her knees next to Leo's body, tears springing to her eyes.

He couldn't be dead, couldn't be gone. He had promised. Promised to continue their conversation from the ship. She thought about what he'd said of love, tried to bring the words to mind… but she wasn't able to. Terra could only remember that they were going to continue to talk.

"The paths of life and death are a cycle," she heard a voice say reverently, "as one path ends, so does the other begin. Make your journey with heart light and soul free. Journey to the lifestream in peace, my friend."

Terra brought her tear-filled eyes to look at Sabin. He looked up from Leo to meet her gaze steadily.

"No," said Terra firmly. "No. There has to be something we can do. We have this magic, we can heal him!"

"No, we can't Terra," replied Sabin softly, "he's dead."

"It doesn't matter!" she yelled, not noticing or caring that the others were coming up behind her. "It doesn't matter! We have magic! We can cure him! We can bring him back!"

Sabin took one of her hands in his own, gently but firmly. "Terra, do not do this to yourself. We cannot help him. Death cannot be healed."

She wrenched her hand from his grip, snarling angrily. "We can! Celes! Help me! Help me heal him!"

Without waiting for a response, Terra brought her hands against Leo's chest, channeling healing energies into his body. The ghastly wounds in his throat and chest slowly closed up, leaving his clothes to bear the only evidence of the injuries he'd taken.

"Come on, Leo!" she raged, when she saw that he still wasn't breathing. "You can breathe! You have to live! Help me, Celes!"

Celes just looked at Terra with a sad face, and shook her head slowly. Terra screamed in anger.

"Curse you all to the three hells!" she screamed. "Someone help me! Breathe, Leo! Just breathe! You can't die! You made a promise!"

Casting her magic into his body, Terra began to force the heart to beat, tried to force the blood to flow.

"Terra!" yelled Sabin, "Do not _do_ this!"

She ignored him, and yelped in surprise when she found his massive arms around her, pulling her away from Leo's body. Terra screamed in frustration, arms and legs flailing, trying to escape Sabin's grip. She tried to rake him with her fingernails, tried to drive her boots into his knees or his groin. Sabin knelt to the ground, stymieing her attempts to kick him, then just continued to hold her.

Terra continued to try and fight, not listening to Sabin's whispered words of comfort. She could do this! She could bring Leo back! They had to let her try!

Terra hardly appreciated that despite her struggles, Sabin's arms rarely budged more than a hairsbreadth.

"You can't help him, Terra," Sabin said softly, as Terra's struggles began to weaken and she started crying. "Death can not be healed. That power has never been meant for mortal hands. Even if your magic managed to work, it would not be Leo, but merely an empty, soulless shell. He is gone, Terra. Let him go on his journey."

Terra was sobbing by now, and she buried her face into his arm as she cried. "I couldn't help him," she said through her tears.

"You gave him the strength," countered Sabin. "Strength to do what was needed in his darkest moments. You gave him the strength to do the right thing. You gave him the strength to make a choice. He fought Kefka, and perhaps with that decision, he may have saved all of your lives. It is our turn, to make sure that his choice was not one made carelessly. It is our turn to honor his life, and his death. He gave us the chance to stop Kefka."

Terra started to control her tears, and began to rein in her sobs. After a minute, the tears halted in their flow, and the only remaining evidence of her grief was her red-rimmed eyes. She nodded shakily, and allowed Sabin to help her to her feet.

Celes watched her two companions carefully. It amazed her how quickly Terra had taken Leo into her heart, treating him as closely as she did Locke or Edgar or Sabin, whom she had known for months now. Celes remained silent, but she agreed with what Sabin had said; Leo would have been proud of his final actions and would not have wanted them to mourn his death. All of his life had been in service to the same purpose that theirs was. It was only circumstance that had put him in service to Gestahl.

Terra gazed at Leo's body for several long moments. She had learned, in a roundabout way, of Locke's project to revive his old fiancé Rachel, and right now Terra understood completely why he wanted to. Why he _needed_ to. Hoping that Leo would get up and walk again was so much easier than acknowledging his death.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, her eyes watering again. "You didn't deserve this. I should have… I should…"

She didn't know what to say anymore. She didn't know what she even _could_ say.

"Terra," said Sabin softly.

She looked at him, and followed his gaze to the side, where several of Thamasa's inhabitants, including the mayor were approaching them.

"Lady Terra," said the mayor, "we saw what happened between you and this… Kefka monster. We also witnessed this man trying to stop Kefka. If you would permit it, it would be our honor to bury this man among our own people. He died trying to help us, and we can think of nothing greater that we can do than to welcome his spirit among our own."

Terra nodded jerkily, but turned to look away as several people of the village lifted Leo's body and carried him back towards the remnants of Thamasa.

"Be at peace, noble warrior," muttered Sabin.

"Go to Ancients, kupo," agreed Mog.

Terra took a deep breath and turned to face the downcast faces of the others.

"We can't stay here," she said firmly. When the others turned to regard her, she continued. "We have to hurry, before Kefka and Gestahl can do any more harm. They're probably going to try and find a way to access the Sanctuary World. If they can do that, and Kefka can continue to kill Espers with the ease he's shown, then it will be a slaughter of the Espers."

"Sabin spotted the Imperial Air Force heading back towards the main continent," commented Edgar, "though whether back to Vector or to the Sealed Gate we're not sure. Setzer has the _Blackjack_ fully repaired and ready to fly."

"Then we have no time to waste," she replied, "let's get moving."

Strago stepped forward, his white brows drawn close together. "I would like to accompany you. I wish to help bring justice to those who did this to my home."

"Wait a minute, what's going on here?" asked Edgar, "Who's this?"

"My name is Strago Magus," said the older man.

"He's one of the town council for Thamasa, a descendant of the Knights Arcane of the Magi," explained Terra. "He helped us find the Espers, and he's well-versed in ancient lore. I think his help will be invaluable to us."

"You will need all the help you can get, young man," commented Strago. "We must expect the Empire to flex its new-found arcane muscle soon. From what I understand, Gestahl has never been one to shy away from displaying his power."

Edgar nodded as Relm hopped forward.

"I'm going too!" she declared.

Strago whirled on her. "Not in _my_ lifetime, young lady!" he growled, "You will head straight to the mayor's home and stay with him until this has been taken care of."

"Like _hell_ I will!" she yelled.

Sabin chuckled quietly, and Edgar turned to look at him.

"Kid's got quite a lip on her," murmured Sabin with a wry grin.

Edgar well remembered Matron's punishments whenever she learned one of them had used, in her words, "improper terminology." He wasn't sure how their father tolerated what she did to them; somewhere it _had_ to be considered child abuse.

Edgar turned his eye to the young girl, his grin matching that of his younger brother.

"Yes she does, shrimp," he agreed.

Relm split her glare between Strago and the Figaro brothers. Slowly, she reached into her backpack and pulled out a brush, her face twisting into an evil grin.

"Would you like me to paint your portrait?" she asked in a wickedly sweet tone.

"NO!" croaked Locke.

Terra stepped forward and took Relm's smaller hand in her own. They looked at each other and Terra very slowly shook her head. Relm pouted for a moment, but relaxed her hold on the brush and put it away.

Strago sighed. "I can't be there to protect you, Relm."

"I know, Grandpa," she replied, "I'll have to protect myself."

He nodded, his mouth firming into a thin line. "Then if it is all right with the rest of them, then I will not object to your joining along."

Relm's face broke into a huge smile and she lunged forward, wrapping Strago in a hug. Then she pulled back.

"Much better," she said, "and now we're off!"

She started strutting away.

Sabin laughed. "Onward! Follow the brat!"

They hustled north out of the town limits, to a grove where Setzer had hidden the _Blackjack_.

"Good to see you again, Miss Terra," Janson greeted upon their arrival. "Miss Celes, glad to see that you're alive and well. The cap'n was very much concerned about you."

"Thank you," replied Celes quietly. Janson gave her a quick salute, then turned to the crew and began bellowing orders to take off for the Southern Continent. The crew leapt to their duties as Setzer led the others down to the dining chamber.

"We'll be hot on the Empire's heels soon," Setzer reported, "so now is probably a good time to catch each other up on what's been happening."

Locke launched into the events that had occurred since the Returners had separated in Vector. Their arrival in Albrook and meeting with Leo, Celes and Shadow. Their arrival in Thamasa and how the fire at the manor had led them to go with Strago into the mountains, and how Shadow had gone off on his own. Sabin chuckled at that.

Then he got into the part about fighting off Ultros at the statues, representations of the final three Magi who had sacrificed themselves to contain all the magic of the world. Locke continued to speak about encountering the Espers, and their agreement to come and negotiate, how Leo and Celes had met them in Thamasa, and how Kefka and Gestahl had betrayed them all.

"It is shameful what befell Sir Leo," commented Cyan, "He doth be their finest and most noble of warriors."

"How did the rest of you learn about the Empire's betrayal?" asked Terra.

"After the _Blackjack's_ repairs were almost finished, I went back to Vector," explained Edgar. "There was a feeling in the air, and so I worked my charms on a young, attractive Imperial officer. After a while, she told me the whole crooked plan. Maybe she thought I'd stick around and support Gestahl."

"Sir Sabin and I were visiting the memorial for King Randal," continued Cyan, "and we both doth heard something and went to investigate."

"The Empire was using the tunnels beneath the region to move men and equipment," explained Sabin, "and we saw vehicles of some type. It turned out the Empire had been taking its stored Magitek power and creating flying machines. Large troop transports and smaller fighting vehicles. Several thousand troops were boarding when Cyan and I spotted them; it must have been almost all of the forces that had survived the Espers' attack on Vector."

Edgar continued with his thread of the tale. "Apparently, Gestahl was indeed amazed and shocked by the sheer power of the Espers. But instead of humbling him, he became even more obsessed with gaining their power. The whole peace treaty was a trick to lure us into aiding him. He knew that only Terra could pull the Espers out of hiding and seclusion. He used us to track down the Espers, and from what I heard, Kefka was going to be his secret weapon against them."

"That painted madman was able to kill Espers with a single spell," put in Strago, "some sort of black magic the likes of which I have never heard of. Stars of black light, some sort of foul spell that must have been suppressed by the Magi. It is likely that magic of that sort has never been seen since the time of the Ancients."

"The question is, what _exactly_ is Gestahl after?" wondered Locke, "Is it more Espers? With Kefka able to kill Espers, he would be able to get a treasure trove of magicite."

"No, it would be bigger than that," commented Sabin. The others looked at him. "Gestahl is always after whatever is bigger, whatever is more powerful. The Espers were powerful yesterday, the magicite was powerful yesterday. Today he's after something more. I know him."

"The girl I wrangled the plot out of mentioned something about some statues…" began Edgar.

"Statues?!" gasped Strago, "Did she say where?"

Edgar shrugged and shook his head.

Strago grimaced. "When the War of the Magi had ended, the Espers had already retreated to the Sanctuary World, the Knights Arcane had been devastated, and the world was in ruins. There were three Magi that were left, the last survivors. These three women realized the danger of their power, the danger of their magic. They performed a ritual unlike any that had been performed before; they drew the magic of the world into themselves, making themselves almost as powerful as gods. Then they turned themselves into stone. Petrified forever, they would never be able to unleash their magic upon the world."

"Those gold statues you showed us, right?" asked Locke, "Right before we were attacked by Ultros?"

"No, boy," replied Strago with a shake of his head, "those golden statues were merely representations. They'd been forged with magic, but they had no magic of their own."

"Then what you're saying is that Gestahl is searching for the source of magic in the world?" clarified Celes.

"That's exactly right," agreed Strago.

Everyone was silent for several moments, absorbed in their own thoughts and contemplating the havoc that Gestahl and Kefka could wreak with all the power of the world's magic at their disposal.

Their musings were interrupted by one of the crew coming into the room.

"Cap'n?" said the man, "Janson says you better get topside. There's something all of you need to see."

* * *

They were rather ordinary, to all appearances. Marble, granite and obsidian, half again as tall as a man. The features were crisp and clear and smooth, more realistic than any sculptor could achieve. Three women; one elderly, one in the prime of her life, and the third barely more than a girl. The faces of all three conveyed a sense of sadness and regret. None of the three statues bore a single scratch; none were marred by the passage of a thousand years or more.

Kefka was giggling madly.

Gestahl put the madman out of his mind. He would deal with Kefka when the time came. For now, the attack dog still had his uses. Gestahl gazed upon the statues with awe… and greed. Finally, the power was his. The power to fulfill his dream of a world entirely under his rule.

"This is the power," he murmured, "the power to rule all. Now, nothing can stop me."

Gestahl stepped forward, centering himself between the three statues. The aura of pure magical energy washed over him and through him like a great wave. Gestahl took the magic… and pulled.

* * *

The world trembled. It groaned and creaked with strain. The island that had held the Sealed Gate shuddered and heaved. The tremors grew until the island was ripped from its foundations beneath the waves, and began to rise into the air. The ground's weight, once supported by the water and the stone foundations beneath it, couldn't hold together entirely, and chunks of rock began to fall from outer edges, crashing into the water.

The power of the magic drew the life from everything on the island. The part of the forests that had survived the cataclysmic battle between the Espers and the Imperial soldiers withered and died within moments, the leaves turning black and the trunks of the trees crumbling into dust.

The craggy peak that had lain above the Sealed Gate shattered, hurling stone in every direction. It revealed a platform, in the center of the remnants of the island. Standing on that platform were two men, and three glowing statues.

* * *

The Returners and the crew of the _Blackjack_ stared, speechless, at the sight of the island now hovering hundreds of feet above the waves. In the heart of the island, there was a glimmer of power, almost as bright as a second sun.

Locke tried to speak, tried to say…_something_. But no words came out.

"Is that…" began Terra, trailing off, unable to find the words.

"The statues," agreed Strago sadly, "the remainder of all of the power of the Magi. It is said they balance each other's power, but should that balance ever be disturbed, it could unleash a cataclysm that could rearrange the face of our world forever."

"Then we don't have any time to waste," said Sabin, "we have get there and stop Gestahl and Kefka before they can do any more harm to this world."

"Waroo! Waroo! Bug ships flying!" cried Gau.

The others turned to look, and saw light glinting off several small vehicles heading towards the _Blackjack_.

"That must be the remainder of the Imperial Air Force," commented Edgar, hefting his autocrossbow. "Setzer! Make for the island, full speed! We'll hold off these flying trash cans!"

"Sir Gau! Sir Mog!" cried Cyan, "We three shalt guard against any boarders. Lady Terra, Sir Sabin and Sir Strago take the left, Lady Celes, Miss Relm, King Edgar and Sir Locke, take the right! Keep those monstrosities at bay!"

"Janson, full speed!" ordered Sezter, taking over at the wheel.

"Aye, skipper!" replied the first mate.

Everyone lurched and was forced to brace themselves as the _Blackjack_ suddenly accelerated and hurtled forward. After less than a minute, however, it was clear that despite the technological advancement of the _Blackjack_, that the Imperial fighters, powered with the remnants of the Espers' strength, were too fast, and would catch up quickly.

"Get ready! Here they come!" yelled Sabin.

The Imperial fighters came in, their Magitek engines emitting a whine, almost a scream, as though the power of the Espers that had infused them had left a portion of their pain. Their weapons spat gouts of fire at the _Blackjack_, but with Setzer at its helm, the airship danced like an expert ballerina, evading much of the attack fire.

The Returners struck back; blasts of fire and ice from Terra and Celes, flashes that blinded the pilots and spikes of metal from Edgar's tools, wires and hoses cut with Locke's bladed crescent, blasts of lightning and other energy from Strago, duplicate images of the fighters came to life from Relm's brush and fired energy at their originals, and beams of white spiritual energy from Sabin.

From the center of the _Blackjack_, Cyan and Mog and Gau summoned the power of the Espers; ancient Ramuh who hurled blasts of lightning at all the fighters around the airship, and Maduin who fired at them with blasts of violet energy. Mog summoned Stray, who appeared to be a gigantic white cat. The spirit of the Esper flashed with energy, and suddenly three of the fighters went haywire, flying in all sorts of directions, their pilots confused and unable to think coherently. Two of them rammed into other fighters, eliminating both in giant fireballs.

Though dangerous, the fighters of the Imperial Air Force could not match the technological, magical and spiritual power of the Returners, and before long the fighters had been destroyed, and the two or three survivors flew off towards Vector.

"Cap'n!" cried Janson, "The _Blackjack_ took some heavy hits from those fighters! We're still in the air, but I don't know how long she'll be able to keep the altitude!"

"She'll hold long enough!" replied Setzer, "Take over, we're heading onto that floating rock!"

"Aye, skipper. Mate's ship!"

"Mate's ship!" acknowledged Setzer, who immediately moved to the main deck to join the other Returners.

Janson maneuvered the _Blackjack_ as delicately as he could, hovering over the ruined isle's western edge. It had the largest open space that he could see, but it was still too small for the _Blackjack_ to land. The rest of the island was filled with craters and hills far too dense for the airship to rest.

Ropes were dropped, and Terra and Celes were the first two over the side of the airship, sliding down the ropes to the ground. Edgar and Cyan and Setzer came right after, followed by the rest. Sabin and Gau leapt from the _Blackjack_, ignoring the ropes entirely, landing crouched and ready for combat.

As soon as they were all down, Setzer waved a hand to Janson, who nodded and pulled the _Blackjack_ away from the floating island. Everyone drew their weapons and gathered closer together, keeping an eye in all directions.

The landscape was barren and alien; bare rock jutted up at unnatural angles, and dropped away without warning. Areas almost big enough to hold the _Blackjack_ narrowed to the point that the party could pass through only single file lay right next to each other, with no gradual change. All plant life had withered and died already, as well as any animals that had lived here that had not escaped when the island took to the sky. There was no sound except for the howling of wind.

"This place hath been stained by evil," commented Cyan in a low voice.

Sabin nodded in agreement. "The lifestream has been twisted here. There is pain here… so much pain."

"Well," said Locke, "we're not going to accomplish anything waiting around here, so let's get mov…"

He stopped abruptly as a black shadow of death materialized in front of him, the figure putting a blade to Locke's throat in the blink of an eye. Locke gulped instinctively as he looked into a pair of cold, steel gray eyes.

Several others lurched forward reflexively.

"Kojiro," greeted Sabin.

"Ironhand," was Shadow's reply with a nod.

Celes turned her head at the sound of a low growl, to see Intercepter standing behind the party, stance wide and solid, teeth bared. She swallowed hard.

"You mind removing your blade from Locke's throat?" said Sabin.

Shadow's eyes narrowed at Locke, and he gently slid his blade back and forth across the rogue's throat, though not enough to draw blood.

"You have all involved me in something world-shattering, and I do not like being swept up in events beyond my control," said the ninja in a low voice. "It makes me very unhappy. Killing someone sounds like a good idea right now."

"Then turn that anger on the ones who deserve it," replied Sabin, "Gestahl and Kefka have manipulated all of us, including you, to serve their own ends. Don't do their work for them by killing us. You're a better man than that."

Shadow's gaze snapped to Sabin and his cold glare intensified. "You have no idea what kind of man I am."

"Yes, he does," said Terra, "because he's right. You showed that to me on the _Forerunner_. You try to hide it, but I think beneath that mask is a good man."

Shadow split his glare between the two of them, still absently sliding his blade along Locke's throat. After several moments, Shadow lowered his weapon.

"Interceptor, peace," he ordered. The massive animal instantly relaxed his aggressive pose, but remained wary.

"Hi, Inty!" said Relm, going up to wrap her small arms around the dog's neck. Interceptor didn't nudge her away, but neither did he relax his vigilance of their surroundings.

"You should have stayed home in safety, little girl," said Shadow, "this is no place for you."

Relm shot to her feet and fearlessly glared at the deadly ninja. "I was a big help against Ultros and I helped find the Espers! I'm good enough to help save the world, too!"

Shadow nodded once.

Sabin came up to him and spoke quietly. "How did you manage to get here?"

"Killed a crewmember of Gestahl's aircraft," came the casual answer, "then I took his place and flew here with the rest of the forces. They battled the Espers, and it was horrific on both sides. There wasn't much left on this island before Gestahl ripped it into the air. Those three statues that he's standing with are odd, and he's acting like they're more precious than gold."

"They're the source of the Magi's magic in this world," said Strago, "and what's giving him the power to do this."

"And if Gestahl ever moves them out of their appropriate position…" began Locke.

Shadow waved a hand. "You act as though I am concerned about this. This is none of my business. I have no right to fight at your side."

"You have every right," commented Sabin quietly, "all you have to do is choose."

"Please, Shadow!" pleaded Terra, "We need your help. We need every advantage we can get against Gestahl and Kefka. You told me not to become like you. You seem to have given up on yourself. Well I won't give up on you!"

Shadow was silent for a moment.

"I won't give on you, my friend," agreed Sabin.

Celes and Cyan stepped forward, and the former Imperial general spoke. "We won't give up on you either."

The rest of the Returners nodded in support. Shadow looked around, seeing the confident gazes, seeing, for the first time, a measure of trust from more than just Sabin. He took a deep breath and nodded sharply.

"Gestahl and Kefka are clustered around the statues at the heart of the island," he explained, "the way is difficult and treacherous, especially for those of you ill-suited for scrambling over the rocks. However, I will do my best to guide you there. Follow me."

The ninja took off at once, followed by Terra and Sabin. The others followed, while Cyan and Edgar took the rear, keeping an eye out for anything behind them. The going was difficult, the paths leading to dead ends, with sharp rises in the rock too high or too dangerous for most of the Returners to climb. In some parts, the rocks seemed to have been ground to razor-sharp edges, forcing the party to move slowly and carefully, lest they deal serious damage to their feet.

Twice they had to stop to rest tired feet and aching muscles. Shadow, Sabin and Gau would take the opportunity to scout ahead, trying to find the quickest paths to the statues. The afternoon had passed, and evening was beginning to settle in. The sun began its slow fall towards the horizon, casting a red glow on the world, and shadows started to lengthen.

As they continued towards the statues, the shadows grew longer and they came upon another dead end.

"Bloody Ancients!" cursed Edgar, "How are we going to stop Gestahl and Kefka if we can't even reach them?!"

"We'll get there," insisted Celes. "We have to."

"Heads up! We've got company!" called Sabin, dropping into a predatory crouch.

Weapons were brought up and around, but mouths dropped open at the sight of the creature before them. A creature unlike the world had seen in a thousand years, and something no book of the War of the Magi had ever described.

The beast was easily fifteen feet high at its shoulder, four thick limbs bulged with densely-packed muscle beneath its armored hide. Its head was a mass of growths and horns, glowing blue eyes were narrowed into slits as it stared at the Returners. Its massive spiked tail, easily another twenty feet long, twitched in anticipation, the spike leaving deep gouges in the stone behind it.

_Here me, mortals_, came a voice inside their heads, _I am Atma, forged of the energy of magic, my energy as ancient as the cosmos. Brought together by the power of the last of the Magi to guard them. You are feeble. Choose to live and turn back. Here you will find only death!_

The force inside their minds grew dark and angry, filled with hate and evil. The unaligned energy that had created Atma had clearly been twisted by Gestahl and Kefka.

_Your death shall be beyond the three hells, beyond the heavens. It shall only remain in the chaos that I am! Your pain shall be terrible, and death will not end it! Your weak spirits will never escape the pain! I shall hold your souls until the end of time itself, and torment your souls for eternity!_

The creature's blue eyes flashed, and the area around the Returners was suddenly cloaked in shadow.

Celes glanced up, and her eyes widened in shock.

"SCATTER!" she screamed.

The warning came too late, as a massive meteor crashed into the ground between them, blasting all of them away with the force and fire. More meteors, smaller and faster hurtled through the air, turning into streaks of fiery destruction.

Gau pulled Relm and Mog under the cover of some rocks, while Cyan tried to cover himself with his shield. Celes, Terra and Strago raised their hands, trying to form shields of magic against the barrage, protecting themselves, Locke and Edgar from the fiery rain. Sabin and Shadow dodged around, keeping in constant motion.

Finally, the rain of fire from the sky ended, leaving small craters of burning rock scattered about. The Returners groaned in pain, gasping for breath.

They gathered around together, holding weapons and eying the creature Atma. The creature stamped its feet into the ground, crushing rock beneath its claws.

"So… uh," breathed Locke, "I guess running away isn't an option, is it?"

"Nay," growled Cyan, whose eyes suddenly gleamed. "Charge!"

Sabin and Cyan leapt forward, charging Atma, Gau loping forward on all fours just behind them. Celes stretched out a hand with a scream, and frost coated Atma's face. Terra let out a cry of her own, and her form shifted, clothes and features melting away into a glowing pink hue, hair waving against the wind as she flew forward.

A barrage of lightning erupted from Strago's hands and Locke hurled his crescent blade through the air.

Atma's tail hurtled through the air, careening into Cyan's shield, knocking the Doman knight into Sabin and sending both men to the ground. Gau breathed a roar of flames as he leapt into the air, landing on Atma's back. The boy screamed as razor-sharp spines shot up through the creature's armored hide, spearing his body in several locations.

Atma's eyes glowed, and bolts of lightning shot through the air towards Terra, who flew forward in her Esper form. The lightning twisted in the air and burned themselves into Celes blade, violet runes glowing along the sword's length.

Two shuriken flew through the air, embedding themselves in Atma's left eye. The creature roared in pain.

"Take this, ugly!" yelled Relm, her brush just finishing its last stroke on a piece of parchment.

An ethereal copy of Atma appeared in front of the original and slammed its own tail into Atma's face before fading away. Strago yelled out a word in an indecipherable tongue, and Atma was surrounded by a white glow. The glow condensed into three balls of glowing white and silver light, then all three shot into Atma.

The creature howled in pain.

At that moment, Cyan rolled to his feet almost underneath the creature's throat, slicing a deep gash into Atma's neck. A heartbeat later and Edgar was next to him, driving his chainsaw deep into the creature's chest.

Terra cast a spell, and a black cloud flew from Atma into her hands as she drained the creature of its own magical power.

Sabin drove his fists in a rapid barrage into Atma's side as Gau snapped off one of the spines and shoved it deep into the creature's back.

_Mortals! Fools!_ screamed Atma in their minds, _You shall find your own destruction here!_

Atma drew in on itself for a moment, then a massive pulse of energy erupted from the creature. Gau was flung from its back, landing hard in a patch of rock. Sabin, Cyan and Edgar were driven hard into the ground, their bodies leaving slight cracks and indentations in the hard stone. Terra was knocked backwards through the air and crashed into the ground, rolling backwards until she was stopped by a large rock. She screamed in pain as her ribs were driven into the stone.

The others were knocked backwards, flung to the ground by the creature's power.

_I am eternal! The end of your forever is now!_

Terra weakly grasped the shard of magicite hanging from her neck.

"Father," she whispered, "please help us."

The shard glowed with energy, and the figure of Maduin suddenly stood before Atma. The Esper's brown skin was like dark oak and he stood unflinching before the guardian creature.

The Esper's hands came together, then separated slightly, revealing a glowing orb of violet light. Beams of light flashed from the orb, then the energy seemed to swell and a ray of energy blasted towards Atma. The creature screamed as a hole was burned through its armored hide.

Locke grabbed a hold of his magicite as well, and a creature like a horse, but with a single horn in its head and covered in silver scales appeared. Kirin looked at the mortals with sad, pitying eyes, then soft blue light flew from the tip of its horn, gently touching each of them, slowly closing their wounds and washing away their pain.

Shadow forced himself to one knee, drawing a dagger with a pitch-black blade. The weapon flew through the air, burying itself into Atma's remaining eye.

_Fool mortal! You think I need my eyes to destroy you?!_

"One could hope," muttered the ninja.

A shower of icicles flew through the air, tearing into Shadow's arms as he leapt to the side.

A beam of healthy white light lanced through the air, Sabin's aurabolt striking the side of Atma's face. Edgar and Cyan both drove their swords into the base of Atma's throat, and then Strago conjured a spike of flame that erupted from the ground, driving into the creature's chest.

Atma gave a strange howl.

_My bonds! Mortal fools! I am forever! You cannot hope…_

Atma's threats faded away as the creature began to dissipate, unable to continue holding its energy together as it faded into the energy of magic.

"All right," said Edgar, "who's _not_ dead?"

"Is it all right to wish that we were?" asked Locke, resting on both knees.

"Are you breathing?" retorted the Figaran king.

"Yes."

"Then you go into the 'not dead' category," finished Edgar. "Little brother?"

He glanced over at Sabin, kneeling meditatively, eyes closed, murmuring under his breath. Suddenly, Edgar felt as though a cool, refreshing breeze swept _through_ him. He felt better… not great, but better. And revitalized, ready to take on anything.

The others felt it too; Shadow sprang to his feet and Locke straightened his back. Terra stood quickly.

They all looked to Sabin. He smiled.

"A mantra of healing," Sabin told them in answer to their unspoken question. He moved gingerly. "A pity that it doesn't work on me."

Celes stepped up to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. She murmured something quietly, and a soft green light glowed from beneath her hand. A large bruise on Sabin's arm began to fade.

"Save your energy," said Shadow. He tossed a vial to Sabin. "Your mantra did well for us. Did it cost you energy?"

Sabin shook his head. "I draw on the power of life itself, not my own energy. I could do it all day if needed."

"Take the healing potion," said the ninja after a thoughtful moment, "Terra, Celes and Strago will need all the energy they can muster to face Kefka and Gestahl."

They all nodded at Shadow's reasoning, and they took a few moments to gather their strength.

"How much further?" asked Terra.

Shadow nodded his head past where Atma had stood. A narrow crevasse led deeper into the floating island.

"Just through there, perhaps another five minutes beyond. I wish you the best of luck."

He turned and leapt onto a boulder.

"What are you doing?!" demanded Celes.

Shadow hunched his shoulders for a moment. "Of everyone here, I am the only one who gave their skill to the Empire of their own free will. You have the strength of your convictions, and I do not have that advantage."

"Shadow…" began Sabin.

"No, Ironhand," interrupted Shadow, "I am not like the rest of you. You all fight for life. I am already dead."

He leapt away before anyone could say anything else, vanishing into the rocks in moments.

They all stared after him.

"Go in peace, my friend," muttered Sabin, "I hope you find whatever you're looking for."

"Well, sirs and ladies," said Cyan, "we doth be no worse off than whence we started. Gestahl and Kefka lay just beyond, and we shalt face them bravely and cast them down to the three hells, and they shalt feel the punishment for their wickedness for all eternity."

"Sounds like a plan to me," said Locke.

They hurried forward, forced into a single file through the crevasse, then had to scramble up the rocks when it ended abruptly, but it led to a wider area of ground, mostly level, though it began to rise in an incline towards the center of the floating island. After another minute, the party of Returners caught a glimpse of the glowing aura of the statues.

The ten of then raced forward, intent on stopping Gestahl and Kefka before they could do any more harm. The two Imperial leaders quickly came into view. Kefka was dancing around the statues, cavorting and laughing without reason. Gestahl stood in between the trio of statues. The look on his face was one of pure ecstasy; mouth slightly open as he smiled, eyes half closed, breathing heavier than normal.

Gestahl's eyes opened as the Returners approached, and Kefka stood nearby, giggling and yet glaring at the party at the same time.

"Goodness, goodness. Look who's come," said Kefka in an almost sing-song voice. "Come to fight, come to die."

"By the Ancients you are all tenacious," announced Gestahl. He stood tall and proud surrounded by the ancient statues. "I must give you all that much. If you could all only see that I want the best for the world… then you would know that fighting alongside me is best. Then I'd never have any worry about the future. If you served me, I'd have complete confidence that the whole world would be united in no time. General Celes…"

"Don't even start, Gestahl!" spat Celes, stepping forward, "This is wrong! All of it! Every life lost resisting you was life stolen! You had no right! No right to use Terra like you did! No right to use _me_!"

She paused for a moment, trembling with rage.

"We are here to stop you once and for all," she continued in a growl.

"Stop me?" echoed Gestahl. He laughed heartily.

Sabin and Cyan shared a look, nodding, then began to circle around in opposite directions. Edgar and Gau followed a few steps behind them. Gestahl followed them with his eyes for a moment, and Kefka split his glare among them all. But Gestahl turned his attention back to Celes and Terra.

"Stop me?" he repeated. "You are far too late to stop me. You have only arrived in time for you to perish! Behold the statues of legend!"

He raised his arms, and the air around him warped and twisted with the magical energy surrounding Gestahl and flowing through him. Bolts of energy flew between the three statues, back and forth at each other. Fire and lightning, wind and water and deathly black clouds. The energy would wind its way around Gestahl, as though caressing him with power.

Streaks of orange lightning blasted down from the cloud-laden sky, striking each of the Returners, surrounding each of them in a web of glowing energy.

"What fell magic is this?!" roared Strago, struggling against the web of energy. The web quickly covered his mouth, gagging him and the other Returners.

Setzer tried to reach for one of his razor-edged cards, thinking that he might be able to throw it and distract Gestahl enough to lose his concentration, thus freeing them. But he couldn't flex his arm enough to let one of them slide down his sleeve. He tried to reposition himself, but to no avail.

_Bloody Ancients!_ he cursed, _I really don't like these odds._

"Ah, Celes," said Gestahl, in a fond voice. "You are the closest thing I have ever had to a daughter. You should be at my side. Let's get rid of those bonds so you may join me at my side."

He waved a hand, and the imprisoning web of energy dissipated around her, unwrapping her mouth, arms, legs and hands.

"Please, Emperor!" pleaded Celes the instant she could speak, "Please stop this madness! You were a good man once, one respected as a hero! Do not let yourself fall to this disgrace!"

Geshahl laughed. "You don't understand, Celes! None of you do! The power of the statues, the power that is mine now to command… it is limitless! With the power that I wield, there will be no resistance to my rule! Come with me, my beautiful Celes! You and Kefka were destined to stand at my side. You were both given life and power to serve me in my grand pursuit! Accept your birthright and take your rightful place at my side!"

Celes swallowed hard, she knew that in some respects, Gestahl was right. She _had_ been given her life and power to help Gestahl pursue his goal of world conquest. But that was not the life that she wanted for herself. Sabin was right. Every person had the right to make choices in their life. Right or wrong, it was _her_ choice to make.

"Pretty Celes, sister Celes," sing-songed Kefka. He just about danced over her, giggling uncontrollably, but he smoothly drew his sword from its sheath. "Kill the fools, the brave fools, the dead fools! We will forget treachery, forget betrayal, forget you fought for them. They'll be dead, and you alive. We'll fight and kill and make the world scream!"

Celes looked back and forth between the sword held before her and the madman who offered it to her. Deep in her heart, Celes wondered what made her different from Kefka. Neither one of them knew where they came from, who their family had been. All the two of them had ever known was Gestahl. Both of them had been infused with Magitek power and trained from childhood to become Gestahl's generals. Neither had been born to have friends, to find someone to love and grow old with. They were the same, she and Kefka. They had been created to destroy all opposition to Gestahl's will. It would be only so easy to give in, to give up, to choose the easy way.

_You have to make a decision between what is easy… and what is right._

"Take it!" roared Kefka, thrusting the sword towards her. "Take it and end their miserable existence! Let them cry and moan and beg and plead if you want, but _end_ them!"

Gestahl watched with a smirk on his face. This was going even better than he'd planned. Celes had no hope with the failed Returners. She could now see his inevitable triumph. She would break, and kill them, and then she would know that she certainly had nothing left in the world except for her loyalty to him. She would be useful, especially when it would become time to remove the unstable Kefka from the scene.

Celes took the sword from Kefka, tears streaming down her face. Kefka laughed and began dancing about again as Celes turned towards the others.

She looked over at Terra. "Absolute power breeds only corruption."

Celes turned to look at Sabin. "Peace without justice is only tyranny."

Celes stared down at the sword in her hand, her thumb absently rubbing circles against the guard. The blade she held could be used to destroy… but it could also be used to defend the innocent against another person who wanted to use their own sword.

"I've made my choice," she said firmly, "and I wish that I had never been born!"

Celes spun and slashed blindly with the sword at Kefka, knowing only that he was somewhere behind her. She felt the blade bite into flesh and heard the madman's yelp of pain. As she spun around she could see that the blade had only opened a large cut against Kefka's shoulder, but even that little bit was worth it.

"Blood?" said Kefka wonderingly, his eyes widening as he looked at his hand. It was covered in blood, having instinctively risen to cover the bleeding gash.

_Blood. My blood. Human blood. False blood. Gods don't bleed. Trick! It is all a trick! Fake blood… they seek to trick me! I will show them! Power of gods! No blood stops a god! A god I am! They will whimper and fear me! No blood, not now, not _ever!

"You… _BITCH_!" roared Kefka. "You will suffer! Torture! Agony the likes of which are known only the three hells! You will beg to suffer only what the damned suffer by the time I finish with you. Your friends will suffer! Anyone you care for will suffer a lifetime! It shall start now!"

Kefka raced over to where Gestahl stood, throwing the older man from where he stood in between the statues. Surprised by the suddenness of the madman's actions, Gestahl could do nothing to resist and landed in a heap more than ten feet away. Kefka stood amidst the statues, arms raised to the heavens.

"Goddesses of magic!" screamed Kefka, "You were born for war! Born to fight! Born to kill! Show me your power! Give me your power! The power should be mine! The power _must_ be mine! The power _deserves_ to be mine!"

The energy swirling from the statues grew, and intensified. Bolts of energy blasted around, larger and more frequent than before. Small cracks of lightning and power separated from the larger bolts and caressed Kefka's arms, gently snaking down to his chest and vanishing, as though the energy was nurturing him.

"I command you! Give me your power!" Kefka roared at the top of his lungs.

"No!" screamed Celes. She hurled the sword at the madman, but a blast of energy incinerated the blade before it could reach him. Celes stepped back, closer to the rest of the Returners.

"Kefka!" yelled Gestahl, "Stop this! You are drawing too much energy from the statues. If you draw any more, you'll flood the world with more magic than it can handle at once! You will destroy the very world we have tried so hard to conquer! You would be mad to ruin everything we've worked for!"

"Mad? Mad?!" echoed Kefka, his violet eyes wild and flashing with hate. "Is it mad to have power? Mad to want power? I have power! Power is mine! I will show them power!"

Gestahl shook his head, his face set in an angry scowl. "I don't think so. You've been more of a problem than a solution, and it is finally time that you've outlived your usefulness to me. Goodbye Kefka, perhaps my next project will show more sense and loyalty than you!"

Kefka squealed in delight and laughed hysterically.

_Run, Gestahl_, thought Celes, _you don't realize how dangerous he is. Stop and get away while you have a chance!_

Gestahl channeled the power of magic through himself, calling upon the power the statues had granted him. Kefka's mind was his weakness, a simple spell to put him to sleep should be enough to let Gestahl kill him quickly and then get back on task. Gestahl thrust the magic towards Kefka…

Nothing happened.

Gestahl hesitated for a moment, the shock showing clearly on his face. He licked his lips nervously and tried again, casting a spell to blind Kefka with a flash of light.

Again, nothing happened.

"No, impossible," muttered Gestahl. He looked down at his hands, as though they had been what had failed him. He looked at them as though he'd failed to craft something with those hands, when the project should have been simple. "What is happening? Why isn't the magic working? Kefka… how…?"

Kefka cackled in his high-pitched squeak. "Funny Gestahl, foolish Gestahl, _stupid_ Gestahl. You made me! Gave me power, gave me strength. Just like Celes, but greater than Celes, mightier than Celes! And now I stand within the field of the power of the Goddesses. No magic less than theirs will enter the field. And their magic is mighty indeed. Not weak, not puny… not like you! And now, Goddesses!" he screamed, looking up into the cloud-shrouded heavens. "Give me a sign, show your power to all who gaze upon you!"

Kefka brought his wild gaze down from the sky above, staring at Gestahl with a wild look and a mad grin.

"No!" Gestahl cried, backing away, "Kefka! You don't know what you're doing! The statues, you must not disturb their balance."

Kefka yanked one of his arms down to point at Gestahl, as if pulling something from over his head. A bolt of blue-white lightning blasted down from the dark clouds above them. The ground a few steps away from Gestahl exploded in a spray of earth and stone. Kefka then yanked his other arm down. A second bolt hurtled down, striking the ground next to the Emperor, sending him sprawling on the ground.

Kefka screamed in frustration, raising both arms and pulling hem back down again. Two bolts of lightning hit the ground on either side of Gestahl, who screamed and covered himself protectively.

"You'll leave no one left for us to rule, you maniac!" roared Gestahl. The old man lurched to his feet and ran towards the Returners.

Kefka laughed and pulled his arm down to his side, and then thrust it forward towards Gestahl. Another bolt of lightning came down from the sky, then curved close to the ground and hurtled towards Gestahl, striking him in the back. Gestahl screamed as the bolt detonated in his back, hurling the old man several feet further forward.

The Emperor's body was thrown to the ground and skidded forward coming to a halt in front of Celes. His back was smoking and his face and chest were covered in scrapes and stone burns. He didn't move.

Celes gasped and bent down, fingers reaching for the side of his neck. She found no pulse.

"You…" she gasped, looking at Kefka, "you _murderer_!"

Kefka laughed and shrugged. "Oh well. The dead emperor was a useless emperor anyway. Now no one can stop me. The world will burn, the world will perish! I will kill the world!"

Kefka grabbed the nearest statue and began to pull it out of alignment. The roar of energy grew louder, and unstable. The bolts of lightning no longer remained contained in the web around the statues and Kefka, but instead began to fire in random directions.

"No Kefka!" yelled Celes. She ran up Kefka, grabbing his arm to try and stop him. "If you disturb their balance, the statues' power will be erratic and uncontrolled. The whole world could be destroyed!"

Kefka snarled, wrenching his arm away and backhanding Celes. She lurched backwards, falling to the ground and tumbling towards the others. She came to a rest, laying on her stomach, and painfully pushed herself back up to watch with horror.

"Kefka," she said weakly, pleadingly, "please stop…"

Two dark shapes leapt through the air. One spun and kicked Kefka in the face, while the other barreled headlong into the madman. Caught by surprise, Kefka stumbled backwards, out of the field of the statues' energy until his back hit the stone. The black-clad figure then spun, hurling two sharp spikes at Kefka, driving themselves through Kefka's sleeves and into the stone, pinning the madman in place.

"Shadow!" cried Celes triumphantly.

The ninja, standing on the edge of the statues' field, waved a hand at the rest of the Returners, dispelling their magical bonds.

"I'll _destroy_ you, traitor!" screamed Kefka.

"Impossible," replied Shadow calmly. "I can't be a traitor to someone I've never been loyal to."

He and Interceptor hurried down to where the Returners were picking themselves up off the ground. Terra raced up to Shadow and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

"You came back," she breathed, pulling away and smiling brightly, "I _knew_ you'd come back."

Shadow shrugged. "Interceptor decided to come back and help you."

"Let me guess, Kojiro," said Sabin with a grin. "It was one of his _less_ intelligent decisions?"

"I'm afraid so," replied Shadow blandly.

"Well that's enough back-slapping for me!" declared Relm, "How about we put that maniac into the history books where he belongs?"

Suddenly the rock at Kefka's wrist exploded in a shower of stone shards, and his right arm was free.

"Go now!" cried Shadow, "I can hold Kefka and do what I can to prevent him from further upsetting the statues' balance! But the rest of the world is counting on you to make it a better place. You have to go!"

Sabin stepped forward. "I'll stand with you!"

"Go, Ironhand!" yelled Shadow, "Keep them safe."

Sabin grimaced but nodded.

"Shadow, we can all go now!" cried Terra.

Just as she spoke the words, the ground beneath their feet rumbled and shook, forcing them all to stumble for a moment to regain their balance. Dull roars and sharp cracks sounded from every direction, accompanied by more tremors. A section of the outer edge of the floating island, visible to the Returners snapped like a stale cracker and fell towards the ground.

"This place is coming apart!" cried Locke.

"The magic of the statues has been distorted," Strago cried over the dull roar of the tremors, "there's nothing that can be done to save this place now! It's only a matter of scale now! If the statues are moved even further from their balance points, the world itself could be destroyed!"

"We have to kill Kefka now!" yelled Edgar.

"No!" roared Shadow, "All we need to do is stop him until the island falls apart. I will stay and make sure of it. You just make it off this death trap!"

"Get yourself to the _Blackjack_ as soon as you can!" said Terra.

"We'll be waiting for you," agreed Sabin.

"Interceptor, go with them," ordered Shadow, "protect Relm."

The massive canine howled in protest but dutifully took up a position next to the young girl.

"Sabin, in the front!" ordered Edgar, "Terra, Celes and I behind and the rest of you follow. Cyan, watch our backs! Take out any ranged weapons you might have. Don't get up into combat, we need to move fast. If you see something, shoot it and move on! Sabin! Find us the fastest way out of here!

The younger Figaro nodded and took off without a word, Terra and Celes following behind him, with Edgar on their heels and the others following.

Sabin raced forward with Gau staying close. The tremors began to grow worse as they hurried on, the island shaking and heaving. The roar of tumbling rocks and boulders filled the air, and the island quivered each time a piece broke off and fell to the water, hundreds and hundreds of feet below them.

Suddenly, a grotesque parody of Kefka appeared in their path, apparently blocking the way.

"You can't run from a god!" screeched the creature.

Edgar fired a volley from his autocrossbow without breaking his stride. The bolts imbedded themselves in the creature's chest and it screamed, fading away.

Two more apparitions suddenly appeared. Locke hurled his crescent blade at the one to the far side, and Gau simply trampled the one in front of him. Both creatures hissed and vanished. They were gone even before the crescent blade returned to Locke's hand.

More began to appear, leaping over the rocks like mountain goats, or scuttling like crabs. A dozen, a hundred, more… The tide seemed endless.

"There's too many!" screamed Relm.

"Don't stop moving!" ordered Cyan.

The Returners crashed into the wave of creatures. Sabin hurled two aside, their bodies crashing into the rocks and dissipating. Gau ran headlong into another, and suddenly they were overwhelmed by the chaotic mob of grotesque Kefka creatures.

Cyan spun and twirled, his blade cutting in all directions. Several tried to leap onto him, but he held them at bay with his shield. Mog stood at his back, dancing about and calling upon boulders to fall just as he wanted them to, rolling over the creatures. Those that came too close met the Moogle's massive spear. Setzer stood with them, hurling his razor-edged cards in an attempt to keep as many of the creatures at bay as possible, but they acted without thought of their own survival. They were like maddened beasts, seeking only to rip the Returners apart.

Interceptor stood guard over Relm and Strago, the massive dog's jaws ripping into the creatures, tearing out their throats and hurling them into each other. Blood dripped from wounds inflicted by the enemies, but Interceptor never relaxed and never faltered. Relm hurled bolts of fire at the creatures, occasionally taking a moment to sketch a quick image, but the tide was endless. Strago's hands and eyes burned with the power of the magic he was summoning; fire and ice and lightning, water and acid and wind and force; there was nothing that Strago did not use in his arsenal of spells to fight off the creatures.

Locke, Edgar, Celes and Terra had banded together, the two men trying to keep as many of the creatures away, while the two women met them with sword and spell. Locke would draw one's attention and lead it into Celes' sword strike, and stab any with his dagger that were approaching the women's backs.

Sabin and Gau each had been surrounded and cut off from the others, but neither paid it any mind. Gau was lost to his rage, hurling flame with every exhale, his fists like sledgehammers as he pounded away at the creatures like an enraged gorilla. Sabin's fists and feet lashed out in all directions, and when he cleared enough space to take a breath, he turned his focus inwards, drawing in the fires of his spirit and let it explode in all directions, searing the creatures nearby, incinerating them.

The creatures were gone.

Looking around, the Returners looked at each other. They couldn't tell how long they'd been fighting; seconds, minutes… hours? But they'd fought off the creatures and they were alive. Bruised and bloodied, but alive. All of them were breathing heavily, drinking in the sweet air, some wincing as the breaths stretched cuts or pressed bone upon bruises.

"We're alive," breathed Locke.

"Kupo!" cried Mog weakly. He was leaning heavily on his spear, but his eyes were looking out across the rocky expanse before them. "More come!"

The others turned to where the Moogle was looking, and saw another massive wave of the creatures approaching quickly.

Edgar shook his head. "We're out. We're tapped on strength. We can't fight another group like that again and win."

"We could try and run," suggested Celes, "see if we can make a break for it."

"And go where, Lady Celes?" asked Cyan, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We can't run," said Sabin quietly, "and we can't hide. I'll keep fighting until breath leaves my body."

Terra stepped up next to Sabin, watching the approaching horde of creatures, flexing her fingers around the hilt of her sword.

"I will never again submit to Kefka," she said firmly, "not now… not _ever_."

One by one, the other Returners stepped up alongside the two of them, adjusting grips on their weapons as the throng approached. To the right, a section of the section broke loose with the tremors, leaving the heroes less than a hundred feet from a dizzying drop. None of them paid attention; they were focused on the creatures, now only a few hundred feet away.

A shadow passed by overhead and a voice cried out, "FIRE!"

Dozens, hundreds of crossbow bolts flew through the air, mowing down the first dozen ranks of the approaching creatures. A moment later, a second volley followed, slaughtering several more ranks of the creatures.

The Returners looked up to see the hulk of the _Blackjack_ hovering above them.

"Janson!" yelled Setzer triumphantly.

Several creatures had made it through the deadly volleys, but they were destroyed by fire, ice, lightning, aurabolt, crescent blade, autocrossbow and other methods. Deadly steel rain continued to pour from the _Blackjack's_ main deck, the autocrossbows that Edgar had built for the crew now coming in handy. None of the creatures made it within a dozen paces of the Returners. After a minute, there was no sign that the creatures had ever existed.

"Yeah!" cheered Locke and the others. They turned to watch as the _Blackjack_ maneuvered around and hovered just next to the outcropping to the group's side. Several members of the crew tossed down a gangplank.

Setzer was the first aboard, rushing to Janson and crushing the first mate in a tight embrace.

"Thank you," breathed Setzer as he released his friend.

Janson smirked. "Easy, cap'n. You'll besmirch my reputation."

Edgar and Locke and Celes followed, with Terra, Gau, Mog and Cyan on their heels. Strago and Relm hurried aboard after them, Interceptor staying close to their side. Sabin stood on the island, watching the path they'd come from.

"Sabin!" yelled Terra, drawing his attention. "Get aboard!"

"We wait for Shadow!" he replied, his entire posture one of solid determination.

"This place is gonna blow any minute!" cried Locke, "And you're just gonna stand there and wait for him?! Who knows when or _if_ he's gonna make it?!"

Sabin didn't respond with words. He turned and with one hand flung the gangplank back onto the _Blackjack_. Sabin looked at Locke, as if daring the rogue to say something else. Locke kept his peace, and Sabin turned back to watching the path. The rock beneath him shuddered, and Sabin hurried back further onto the path as the ground beneath him gave way and fell towards the earth.

"Setzer," called Terra, "keep us as close to the island as you possibly can. I've seen both Sabin and Shadow leap, but we need to be close enough for them to make it to the _Blackjack_."

Setzer nodded and hurried to the wheel, taking over from the crewman. He maneuvered the _Blackjack_ with an artist's delicacy, gently edging the airship closer to the remains of the island.

The Returners were silent for several precious minutes, watching as the island began to fall apart faster and faster. Light flashed from the center of the island, and waves of energy pulsed outward. Wind began to gather in strength, buffeting the _Blackjack_ from every direction, forcing Setzer to constantly adjust and reposition the ship to keep it from being blown away from the island… or from being blown into the rocks.

"He's not gonna make it," muttered Locke.

Edgar nodded in agreement. "Sabin! We can't hold out any longer, we have to go! You have to leave him!"

Sabin turned to them. "Then go! I'm going to go look for him!"

"Fortunately you won't have to look very far," said Shadow, appearing from behind a rock. He hurried over to Sabin, and the two men shared a look.

"About time you showed up," teased Sabin.

"I'm used to Interceptor having the directions," replied Shadow.

Both men turned to look at the distance between them and the _Blackjack_, then they shared a glance at each other.

"Everyone aboard?" asked Shadow.

"Interceptor stuck to Relm like he was on a leash," replied Sabin.

Shadow sniffed. "Insufferable animal."

"Hurry!" Terra screamed at them.

Both men charged forward, racing towards the edge, and leapt into the empty air. Both men soared with nothing beneath them but a very long fall… and then they crashed into the net-like rigging hanging just below the main deck.

"Haul them aboard!" roared Setzer, who instantly turned the _Blackjack_ away from the island and went to full speed.

Hands reached down, pulling Sabin and Shadow onto the deck. Terra wrapped an arm around the neck of both men and pulled them into a hug. Sabin smiled as she released them. Shadow was unreadable as always.

"I was unable to stop Kefka," explained the ninja, "he managed to cast a spell of protection against me before my knife pierced him. I was able to keep him off-balance for a while and away from the statues, but then he blasted me away with a wall of wind. By the time I regained my footing he was already within the statues' field again and moving them out of balance. There was nothing more I could have done."

"You did everything you could," said Terra, smiling bravely, "we can't ask for any more than that."

"But what happens when those statues stay out of alignment?" asked Edgar, looking at Strago.

"Chaos," answered the old man, "destruction. An end to everything."

Locke glanced at Celes, saw her worried look. He tried to smile bravely for her, but found himself unable to summon the strength to do even that. He looked away, back towards the floating island. His frown turned into a gasp.

"Um… people," he stammered.

The others turned to see what had drawn his attention. A wave of shimmering violet energy was rapidly expanding from the island in all directions, and was quickly racing towards them.

"Setzer!" yelled Celes.

The gambler didn't respond and didn't hesitate, but drove the _Blackjack's_ engines to full and then some, pushing the airship harder than he ever had before. The ship leapt forward, wind buffeting the Returners and the crew.

"Kupo!" cried Mog, pointing below them.

The sea below them was bubbling madly, the water on the far side of the violet wall of energy looked sick and oily. Waves twice the height of a man were beginning to hammer away at the beach, and towering black thunderclouds began to gather sporadically, firing bolts of lightning and unleashing cracks of thunder.

Setzer looked behind him, and saw the wave of energy rapidly approaching.

"We can't outrun this!" he yelled, "Everyone brace for impact!"

Returners and crew raced to grab hold of railings or posts. Strago held Relm tightly, while Shadow and Interceptor crouched next to them. Sabin wrapped one thick arm around Terra and another around Celes, then grasped a pair of ropes, crossing them to give him greater stability.

"Hold on," he ordered the two women.

Both women tightly grasped Sabin's arms, and Locke and Edgar did their best to anchor themselves next to them.

"Here it comes!" yelled Setzer, "Hold on!"

The wave of energy overtook the _Blackjack_, and ripped the airship to shreds. The craft broke and splintered, almost seeming to explode in every direction. Cries of pain came from everyone, and the explosion of energy tore them in every direction, ripping everyone from each other's grasp.

Celes screamed Locke's name as she saw him disappear in a shower of shattered beams, and then screamed again when a secondary blast ripped her and Terra from Sabin's arms. She heard Sabin's roar of defiance and anguish, and caught a brief glimpse of him stretching, trying to reach them both. But the explosions and the gusts of wind pulled them apart and she quickly lost sight of him.

Her descent into unconsciousness was blessedly swift, for her final thoughts were enough to destroy her.

_It's over. We lost._

* * *

On this day, the world was changed forever. No land was spared, no one was left unaffected. No one would ever forget this day. No one would ever forget the day the world began to end. The memories of this day would stand the test of time.

They would call it… the Day of Ruin.


End file.
